It's Hell in the Hallways
by Procrastisloth
Summary: Deep in the bowels of Hogwarts, there is a room unlike any other. It has been enchanted by an unknown witch or wizard to connect Hogwarts with the castle of Camelot, for purposes yet uncertain. Crossing this bridge in time has consequences far beyond what Harry and Merlin could possibly imagine. AU set during series 1 and 2 of Merlin and books 1 and 5 of HP. Friendship only.
1. Deus Ex Merlin

_A/N: Hello! Thanks for checking out my story! This Merlin/Harry Potter crossover came about because I really like the idea that Hogwarts is the same castle that was once Camelot, and I also enjoy time travel shenanigans. Put those two things together and this is what happens. Enjoy!_

 _Disclaimer: Is this thing really necessary? Oh whatever. I don't own anything. Not even clothes. I'm a nudist._

Most children instinctively fear being lost and alone in a strange place. It was thanks mostly to this fact that the staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry rarely worried about students wandering alone in the castle at night. Of course, when it came to Harry Potter, the usual rules just didn't apply.

It was a frigid night in December when the boy-who-lived found himself lost deep in the bowels of the castle, wandering through corridors that might not have been seen by human eyes in hundreds of years. Harry had been searching for the Mirror of Erised, hoping to once again kneel on the cold stone floor and gaze at the two people whose smiling faces never failed to make him feel safe and loved. By then he practically knew the way by heart, but late at night Hogwarts has a way of playing tricks on even the most savvy explorers. This deep in the castle there was very little way to tell one stone passageway from another. While poor Harry's mind was occupied with thoughts of his parents, Nicholas Flamel, and his last potions class before the holidays, during which Professor Snape's oily hair had briefly caught fire while he was sneering into Seamus' cauldron, his legs carried him down, down, down, until even the Slytherins' dormitory was far above him. By the time he realized where he was, or rather, where he wasn't, he couldn't remember which way he had come from.

Through the shimmery, translucent fabric of his invisibility cloak, Harry could see that the corridor extended straight in front of him so far that he couldn't make out where it ended by the light of his wand. He turned to look behind him but the passageway appeared so much the same that he might as well have been looking in the same direction as before.

Harry's palms began to sweat and he wiped them reflexively on his trousers. He tried to fight his childish instinct to panic and reminded himself that the sorting hat must have put him in Gryffindor for a reason. And besides, in his eleven years he had already known terrors much greater than this. Being lost was nothing compared to facing a fully-grown mountain troll. At least that's what Harry told himself.

He chose a direction at random and walked for what felt like an hour before an end to the corridor finally emerged from the heavy darkness. Five feet in front of Harry was a large stone door, hewn from the same type of rock that formed the passageway. It was simple, yet foreboding, and looked as if it had never been opened, or perhaps was never meant to be opened. There was a symbol carved into the door that Harry had never seen before. It was a shape made up of three spirals connected in the center. Harry was terrified of what he might find on the other side of the door, remembering well the incident with Fluffy in the third-floor corridor, but his curiosity got the better of him. There was no door knob or handle, so Harry pushed the door with all his strength until it finally scraped free of its frame with a horrible screeching sound and swung inwards. Holding his wand at the ready and fully prepared to give any creature he might find a face full of _Alohomora_ , Harry proceeded cautiously.

He found himself in an enormous chamber with walls in the shape of a hexagon. There were muggle paintings of a great city with a magnificent castle and of knights in the midst of a fierce battle mounted on all of the walls. Harry eyes became transfixed when he saw the table in the center of the chamber. It was a round table made of dark oak with a golden dragon carved into its center, and looked to Harry to be ancient. He could almost sense a type of magic emanating from it, as if it carried with it the essence of everything it had borne witness to. Around the table were close to thirty chairs with high, regal backs. A thick layer of dust covered every surface. As Harry stepped wide-eyed and trembling into the room, the stone door slammed shut behind him and six torches, one mounted on each wall, burst into life. Harry threw off the invisibility cloak and ran back to the door at once, but try as he might, no amount of physical force and none of his meager magic could force the door open again. After he'd exhausted himself from trying, Harry felt sure that he'd gotten himself in too deep this time. He would never see his friends again, never study magic, never play another game of quidditch. It was probably close to four in the morning now, and soon Ron and Hermione would discover he was missing. He wondered what they would think had happened to him. If he were there he would tell them to look for his body in Snape's supply cupboard. He pushed his fringe back and messed up his already messy hair in frustration and sank onto the ground in front of the immovable door.

Then, he noticed something he had missed before. On the opposite wall of the chamber was another door, so seamlessly set into the wall that Harry could barely distinguish its outline. The same golden dragon symbol from the table was carved onto it.

As Harry watched, the door swung open with a bang.

* * *

"Insufferable, arrogant, supercilious, prattish, pig-headed clotpole…."

Several servants looked at Merlin in confusion as he stormed past them. He didn't give a damn what they thought. Arthur was being a complete ass and he wanted everyone to know it.

In his fit of pique Merlin passed right by Gwen without seeing her.

"Merlin!" she called after him.

"I'm sorry, Gwen, I don't have time to talk. I have to scrub the floors of _every room beneath the castle_!"

"Oh no, what did you do this time?"

"Why does everyone assume that I've done something? He's just being completely unreasonable!"

Gwen sighed. "It's because we know you, Merlin," she said honestly.

Merlin stopped to consider this for a moment. "Well, I may have made one little mistake," he admitted. Gwen raised her eyebrows at him imploringly. "I, uh, might have accidentally washed all of his white shirts together with his red cape."

"Merlin!" Gwen laughed and put her hand on his shoulder. "Honestly, you're lucky he didn't put you in the stocks for the rest of your life!"

"I'd rather the stocks than scrubbing floors for the rest of my life," Merlin grumbled, glaring at the bucket of water and rag in his hand.

"Come on, it won't really take you that long. Would you like me to help you?" She said it teasingly, but Merlin knew that her offer to help was real. Gwen could always be counted on to help a friend out of a tough situation, self-inflicted or not.

"Thanks, Gwen, but if Arthur found out he would probably have me hanged."

Gwen smiled at him sympathetically and reached into the woven basket on her arm. "Here," she said, handing him a bar of lye soap, "At least take this with you. It will make the work go faster."

"Thank you, Gwen. I'd better get started."

Merlin descended the long and seldom used stairs to the lower parts of the castle, adjacent to the dungeons. Like the stairway to Kilgharrah's cave, the stairs were lit by evenly spaced torches on the walls. When he finally reached the endless bottom floor, Merlin set down his bucket of water and soap and resigned himself to the inevitable. If he tried to do this by hand, it really would take the rest of his life. It was at times like these that Merlin truly appreciated his gifts, despite the threat of discovery constantly hanging over him. He just needed to think of the right spell and he could use the countless hours he would have spent scrubbing doing something far more productive, like protecting the prince's royal behind.

Merlin remembered reading about a spell in his magic book that could remove all dirt from a large area, but he couldn't remember exactly what the words were.

He paced back and forth for so long that the filthy floor looked a bit cleaner under his feet. "Aha!" he said when he finally remembered the spell. He glanced quickly over his shoulder to make sure no one was coming down the stairs who would be able to see him.

" _Aliese duru rýne!"_ As soon as he said it Merlin knew that it was the wrong spell. As his eyes burned gold, Merlin heard a loud bang from somewhere farther down the passageway.

He winced and ran towards the sound. He hated it when that happened.

At the end of a long hallway, Merlin saw that a massive stone door had been flung open. He seldom ventured down this far into the castle and had never noticed it before. He recognized the symbol etched into it as that of the Druids and his curiosity was piqued. He flattened himself against the hallway and peered around the doorway tentatively.

"Aaagh!"

Merlin's eyes were assaulted by a blinding flash of light that suddenly illuminated the previously dimly lit chamber. He stumbled backwards with his hand over his eyes and tripped over his own feet, landing bum-first on the hard stone floor.

"Who's there?" shouted a small voice from the newly bright room.

Merlin scrambled back to his feet and stepped forward, squinting into the white light. "Um...hello?"

A young boy who looked to be about 10 or 11 lowered a stick that was lit at one end and peered up at Merlin's befuddled face. "Who are you?" the boy asked, "And what are you doing down here in the middle of the night?"

Merlin just looked more confused. "What do you mean? It's barely past breakfast." Merlin wondered with some concern just how long this boy had been locked in that room.

"What? It's four in the morning!"

Merlin was growing even more concerned. "Look, maybe you'd better come with me to see the physician. I think you're confused."

"No, no, I don't need to go to the hospital wing. Can you just tell me how to get back to the Gryffindor common room please?"

"The griffin...what?" Merlin was completely nonplussed. "What are you…" But Merlin had just looked closely at the stick in the boy's hand for the first time and it made the words climb back up into his throat. It definitely wasn't a torch. "Are you doing magic?" He gasped out in a horrified whisper.

"Uhh, yeah," the boy said, glancing at his still lit wand. "Any reason I shouldn't be?"

Merlin gaped at him and opened and closed his mouth like a fish for a moment. "I'd say execution is a pretty good reason not to be doing magic, yeah."

"I'm sorry? Look, I really don't have time for this. Can you help me or not?"

Merlin's felt a wave of sympathy for the young boy who was obviously lost and confused, and he kneeled to be at eye level with him. He knew that if he didn't help the young sorcerer, no one else would. "What's your name?" he asked kindly.

"Harry," the boy replied.

"Nice to meet you Harry, I'm Merlin."

Harry's eyebrows bunched together. "Like the old wizard with the talking owl in that muggle movie?"

Merlin had no idea how to decipher the second half of that sentence, so he stuck with the first. "Do you know a wizard named Merlin?"

"Err, yeah," Harry said. "He's famous."

"Huh." Merlin was quite surprised to hear that he shared his name with a famous wizard. It seemed an odd coincidence. He couldn't recall ever having met another Merlin. In fact, he had been a bit embarrassed as a child when he learned that Hunith had named him after a bird.

"Where do you live anyway?" Merlin asked, "And where are your parents?"

"They're dead," Harry confessed in a flat voice. "And I live here, of course, in the castle. I'm in Gryffindor house."

"Gryffindor..." Merlin said slowly. He thought that might have been the name of a noble family. It seemed like those old-blood families were always named after some kind of magical creature. But he couldn't imagine any noble family in which magic had been passed down to be allowed to live in the castle of Camelot.

"Well how did you manage to get stuck behind that door?" Merlin asked.

"I came through that door," Harry said, pointing behind him to the large stone door on the other side of the room, "and it slammed shut behind me."

Merlin looked past Harry and fully took in the massive room behind him for the first time. He couldn't imagine how he had missed it before. It was dimly lit by torches, their light reflecting on the polished wooden surface of the round table. Merlin walked past Harry and into the room cautiously, and the door promptly slammed shut behind him.

Merlin swore under his breath and tried to push the door back open with all of his weight pressed against it, but he might as well have blown on it for all the good it did. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and then smirked when he looked back at Harry and noticed that his messy black hair looked like it had received some rough treatment as well. Harry just shrugged at him helplessly so Merlin turned to survey the rest of the room.

He approached the table and brushed it with his hand, struck suddenly by a feeling of...nostalgia? But that couldn't be right, he had never seen this table before. Nevertheless, the feeling of the smooth wood beneath his fingers made him feel oddly wistful.

He shook his head to clear it and approached the door opposite the one which had just slammed shut. Its rough stone surface was engraved with what looked like a family crest with a lion, an eagle, a snake, and a badger on it. He wondered if this was the crest of the Gryffindor house Harry said he was from. Merlin shifted his weight onto his heels and tentatively reached out a hand to touch the door. He pushed it quickly and jumped back as if he expected it to explode. The door glided open swiftly and obediently and Merlin relaxed when he saw nothing but dark hallway beyond it.

Harry let out a soft noise of surprise. "But why wouldn't it open for me?" he complained a bit sulkily.

"I guess you don't have my impressive upper body strength," Merlin teased lightly, gesturing to his scrawny upper arms.

Harry snorted softly and looked at Merlin in mild bemusement. "But who are you anyway?" he asked. "Are you a member of the staff? You look a bit too old to be a student."

This boy was a riddle. Merlin couldn't remember the last time he felt this confused. "A student of what?" he asked slowly.

"Why, magic of course," Harry said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Shhh!" Merlin shushed him quickly, looking around as if expecting King Uther to materialize out of thin air. "You really should be more careful about discussing magic with strangers. Don't you know that it's banned?"

"Banned?" Harry exclaimed indignantly. "Of course it's not banned!" Harry was really starting to look annoyed now. "This is a school for magic! Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Merlin felt as if he were missing something important here. Although the thought of a school for magic filled him with longing, he couldn't imagine such a place existing anywhere near Uther's realm. "Hogwarts? No, this is Camelot. I really think you should let me take you to see Gaius."

Harry let out a disbelieving chuckle. "You're having me on, aren't you? You really had me going there for a while. You really expect me to believe that your name is Merlin and you're from Camelot? Next you're going to say that you know King Arthur."

"Well, yeah. He's not king yet though. I'm Prince Arthur's manservant."

Harry goggled up at him in shock. Then he laughed giddily and said, "And I suppose you call him Wart."

Merlin wasn't sure if he should dignify that with a response. He thought Harry had better be glad that neither royal was here. He would have been hanged three times over by now.

"Look," said Harry, "I'm not saying I believe you, but if you really are Merlin, can't you help me find my way back to my dormitory with magic or something?"

Merlin felt as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water down his back. "How do you know that I have magic?" he asked hoarsely, feeling very panicked. Had his secret gotten out somehow? What if the whole castle knew?

"Never mind how I know. Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone," Harry said placatingly. "Come on, I really need your help. If I don't get back soon I'll be in huge trouble."

Merlin wasn't sure why, but he couldn't help but trust the young boy in front of him, and he had never been one to ignore a plea for help, so he resolved to try his best to help the boy.

"Okay," Merlin agreed, "I'll help you. But I don't think you'll find any dormitories down that way." Merlin pointed down the hallway behind the door with the crest on it.

"Trust me, I know where I'm going," Harry assured him.

"If you're sure," Merlin muttered doubtfully. He glanced back out of the door leading back to the hallway where he had left his bucket. "I know a spell that might help you, but to do it I'll need something from back that way."

"Maybe if we both try the door?" Harry suggested. Merlin nodded in agreement, but he wasn't too optimistic that it would work.

The wizard and the warlock approached the door and pushed hard against it. It swung open immediately and Harry and Merlin both stumbled forward into the hallway, having overestimated how much force they would need. "Now who's the weakling?" Harry pointed out a bit smugly.

"It must have been stuck or something." Merlin shrugged at Harry, who grinned back.

Merlin turned and jogged out of the room and down the hallway until he found his abandoned cleaning bucket. He reminded himself firmly to look up the correct cleaning spell in his magic book just as soon as he had helped Harry. It really wouldn't do to keep trying random spells. Who knew how many other mad young wizards were hiding behind all of these doors.

He picked up the bar of lye soap that Gwen had given him, dropped it, and picked it up again before running back to where Harry was waiting for him, tapping his foot impatiently. He looked at the bar of soap in Merlin's hands dubiously and Merlin felt a bit silly. Oh well, he thought, it would work.

Merlin held the soap near his mouth and whispered, " _Bebiede þe arisan ealdu, astrye Harry!"_ The dull yellow bar began to glow an ethereal blue color.

When Merlin looked up again Harry was staring at him with an awed expression.

"Cool," he said appreciatively, and Merlin grinned bashfully.

Merlin handed the soap to Harry, who looked confused. "You just have to tell it where you want to go and it will guide you there."

Harry looked impressed. "That's a neat trick," he said. "Do you think you could teach it to me sometime?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," Merlin said with a happy smile, imagining Harry as a sort of apprentice, even though Merlin barely knew enough magic to be out of apprenticeship himself. "If you ever find yourself in Camelot, Harry, just look for me in Gaius' chambers."

"Right, thanks Merlin." Harry smiled up at him and laughed as if what he had said had been funny somehow. "See you around."

He held the soap up to his mouth and whispered, "Gryffindor common room." The glowing soup slipped out of his hand suddenly and slid out the doorway through which Harry had come, leaving a glowing trail of suds behind it as Harry sprinted to keep up with it, barely remembering to scoop up his invisibility cloak in one hand as he ran. The door swung shut behind him softly.

Merlin saw that the trail began to disappear as soon as Harry had left. Interesting. He had never tried that spell on soap before. He snickered quietly. Oh, he could not wait to tell Gaius about this one.


	2. Ron Weasley, Blushing Schoolgirl

Chapter 2: Ron Weasley, Blushing Schoolgirl

When Harry awoke later that morning to Ron calling his name and prodding him in the ribs, his legs felt stiff and sore. That blasted soap hadn't slowed down for an instant and he had had to run all the way back to Gryffindor Tower so that the trail wouldn't disappear. When he had finally arrived at the portrait hole, the soap had been standing on one end vibrating slightly, like an excited puppy waiting for praise. Feeling a bit foolish, Harry had picked it up and stroked it, and it had made a sound resembling a purr before going still and silent in his hand. It had still glowed a faint blue, though, and Harry wondered if it would be good for a second trip.

Harry squinted up at the ceiling above his four poster groggily and groaned as he sat up and swung his legs onto the floor. It had been six before Harry had finally collapsed into his bed earlier in the morning and he had only slept for two hours before Ron roused him.

"Harry, mate, where were you last night?" Ron asked, concerned. "Did you go to see your parents again?"

"Yeah, but you'll never believe what happened on the way," Harry said. "Come on, I'll tell you all about it at breakfast."

Harry felt much better after he and Ron had made their way to the Great Hall, which still looked very festive despite Christmas having passed, and began to pile food onto their plates. Ron took much more food than it seemed possible for a person to eat, as usual, and Harry told him about his strange encounter beneath the castle while they ate.

"He said his name was what?" Ron gasped in disbelief, nearly choking on his forkful of roasted potatoes.

"Merlin. He definitely said his name was Merlin and he seemed to think we were in Camelot."

"You reckon he was a nutter or what?" Ron asked. "I mean he must have been, to be lurking around Hogwarts in the middle of the night, babbling about Camelot."

"But who was he then?" Harry wondered. "You weren't there, you didn't see the wandless magic he performed. And his eyes - I could've sworn they glowed gold."

"Harry, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but this all sounds a bit mad. You can't really believe that he was the Merlin, most famous wizard of all time. You were raised by muggles, you don't know what Merlin means to wizards. He's like that Sandy Claws thing you were telling me about that muggle kids believe in."

"Santa Claus," Harry corrected him.

"Right, that. He's supposed to have done all sorts of stuff to help form the wizarding world. Well, you can ask Hermione about it when she gets back. I'm sure she'll know."

"Look, Ron, you can come with me tonight. Maybe we'll find him again and you can see for yourself."

"Yeah, alright," Ron said. "But how are we going to find that room again? I don't really fancy being lost that close to Snape's office and the Slytherins."

So Harry told him about the bar of soap which he had stored in his school trunk and they agreed to try to find the room again at half past eleven tonight, when few people were likely to be wandering about the castle. Excepting, hopefully, Merlin, if that was indeed who he was.

That night, at a quarter past eleven, Harry and Ron were sitting by the fire in the Gryffindor common room, playing a lively game of Wizard's chess while they waited for the last students to file into the dormitories. Harry fingered the invisibility cloak on his lap and he could feel the lumpy bar of soap in his pocket. When the last person, a chubby fourth year girl, left the common room, Ron checkmated Harry's king with inventive simultaneous attacks from his queen and rook.

"We'd better get moving," Harry said. He and Ron got up quietly and Harry threw the invisibility cloak over both of their heads. Once safely under the cloak, he pulled the glowing soap out of his pocket and pondered it for a moment. Where should he tell it to go? "That room under the castle" would get them nowhere, as there were countless rooms on Hogwarts' immense bottom levels. Maybe he could try "the hexagonal room"? But no, Harry didn't think that would work either. There was every possibility that a castle this large would have more than one room in the shape of a hexagon.

Struck by a crazy idea, Harry brought the soap to his lips and whispered, "Camelot."

Ron's fiery eyebrows shot straight back towards his hairline, but before he could say anything the soap darted out of Harry's hands. It hopped out of the portrait hole and the two had to run to keep up with it.

Running under the invisibility cloak was extremely awkward, especially with two people. Ron's long legs kept tripping Harry up and every time Ron whispered "sorry!" Harry shushed him in case Filch, or god forbid, Snape happened to be within earshot. He worried that someone might see the faint trail of glowing suds leading into the darkness if a sound made them look in that direction.

They passed the Great Hall on the long staircase leading down from Gryffindor Tower, skirted around the library, tiptoed by the potions classroom, and sprinted down many long, deserted corridors and winding flights of stairs. It seemed as if they had been running for hours and both boys were extremely out of breath.

"Harry," Ron said, panting heavily as he ran. "How much...farther...is it?"

"Dunno," Harry huffed out. Just as he said this, he saw a familiar door emerging from the darkness, illuminated by the soap's eerie blue light. "There it is, Ron!" he shouted, forgetting to keep his voice down. He clapped a hand over his mouth as his voice echoed loudly through the long corridor, but it didn't seem to matter. There was no one this deep under the castle to hear him.

He pulled the invisibility cloak off of them and stuffed it into the pocket of his robes. He picked up the bar of soap, which was humming excitedly again, and put it with his cloak, but without its strange glowing light he and Ron were plunged into total darkness. Harry fumbled for his wand in the pocket of his trousers and he could hear Ron doing the same.

"Lumos," they said at the same time, and they grinned while squinting at each other in the sudden bright light.

"Help me with the door, will you?" Harry said, and he and Ron approached the great stone door cautiously. With the hands not holding their wands, the two boys pushed hard on the door and it scraped roughly on the stone floor as it opened inward.

Ron immediately tried to walk into the room, but Harry grabbed his arm to stop him. "Hold on," he said. "The last time I was here the door shut behind me and I couldn't open it."

"Then how did you get back?" Ron asked.

"Merlin - or whoever he was," Harry corrected himself upon seeing the skeptical look on Ron's face, "was able to open it."

"Well maybe you just weren't trying hard enough, mate."

"Yeah, maybe," Harry said, but he wasn't convinced. "I'd like to put something in the doorframe just in case, though."

"Alright," said Ron. "But what do we have to block the door with? A shoe?" Ron was joking, but Harry thought it just might work.

"That's not a completely stupid idea," Harry said.

"Uhh, I think it is pretty stupid actually. Do you really want to hop around with only one shoe?"

"Well, I don't want to be locked in either. Don't worry, you can keep your shoes on," he assured Ron, who rolled his eyes at Harry in exasperation.

Harry hopped on one foot as he pulled one of his dirty old trainers off, and then he placed it in the doorframe gingerly. "There," he said, and he gestured forward to indicate that they could go in.

The two entered through the huge doorway side by side and as soon as they had crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut.

"Bloody hell!" Ron said, and Harry looked back and saw that his shoe had been split cleanly in two, with half of it left on their side of the door.

"That's not exactly normal, is it?" Ron said.

Harry agreed completely. "There's definitely something weird going on here."

Ron went back and pushed on the door until he was blue in the face, but it stayed resolutely shut. Harry joined him after a moment but it simply refused to open. "It won't budge!" Ron exclaimed.

"Well, we might as well keep going now since we can't go back anyways," Harry suggested with a small frown.

"I guess so," Ron agreed. He began to look around the room with an interested expression, stopping to examine things like a prospector looking for gold. "Cool," he said when he spotted a particularly violent painting of a battle on one wall. "What's through here?" he asked after he'd finished his inspection, pointing at the door with the dragon carved into it.

"No idea," Harry replied. "That's where Merlin came through."

The two boys looked at each other, shrugged, and walked forward to try the door. It swung forward with barely any effort on their parts. "That's more like it!" Ron said.

Once they'd entered the hallway beyond the door it swung shut softly behind them. After taking just a few steps into the dark hallway, Harry became annoyed with the way his one shoe was making him walk a bit funny, so he took the shoe off, chucked it back towards the door, and continued on after Ron.

In no time at all they saw a light coming from up ahead and when they came closer they saw that there was a stone staircase going up towards the light.

After they climbed the staircase, two things that were extremely odd became immediately apparent to Harry. The first was that even though it should have been close to one in the morning, it looked to be midday. The other was that they clearly weren't at Hogwarts anymore.

"Wicked," Ron exclaimed softly. They were standing on a stone walkway overlooking a castle courtyard, where people clad in rough, simple clothing were going about their business. Beyond them, Harry could see a city consisting of small wooden and stone buildings with thatched roofs and open market tents stretching into the distance.

"Where are we?" Ron asked, his voice full of awe.

Just then two men wearing chainmail and long red capes with golden dragons stitched onto their shoulders walked past Harry and Ron without sparing them more than a passing glance.

"Camelot," Harry replied. He and Ron looked at each other and then grinned broadly. They were like two kids who had gotten locked in a candy shop.

The two young wizards found a stairway leading down into the courtyard, and with light hearts, they set out to explore.

Harry was almost as excited now as he had been when he had gone to Diagon Alley for the first time earlier that year. Both places were completely unlike anywhere he had been before. Unlike Diagon Alley, Camelot wasn't bursting with magic. In fact, Harry couldn't see a hint of magic anywhere, and he recalled that Merlin had said something about it being banned. The culture, however, was just as different from modern day muggle culture as that of a wizarding community.

It was a warm, sunny day, and Harry realized with a jolt that it couldn't possibly be December here. People went about their shopping contentedly and Harry noticed that they seemed to be using mostly small silver coins as currency. On the other hand, there seemed to be something of a bartering system here as well. Harry saw a woman trade two goats for what looked like a perfectly normal rock. When he walked closer he heard the man selling the rocks say, "Good luck charms! Get your good luck charms here! No magic, just really lucky rocks!" Harry snorted and kept walking.

"Harry!" he heard Ron call from across the street, and he ran over to him. "Let's get something for Hermione. She's gonna be so jealous when we tell her about this!"

"Yeah, good idea," Harry said, amused. Sometimes he thought that Ron was still trying to make up for when his cruel words had sent Hermione to the girls' bathroom crying on Halloween.

"Ooh, what do you think of this?" They had reached the tent where a short, elderly woman was selling jewelry and Ron was holding out a copper pendant in the shape of a shield with a little dragon engraved on it.

"Yeah, I think she'll like that," Harry said. "How much for this, then?" he asked the old woman behind the table.

"For that? Four peningas, I'd say," She said in a high-pitched, creaky voice.

"Peningas?" Ron mouthed at him silently, and Harry shrugged.

"I don't think we have any money, Ron," Harry said. Ron looked rather put out.

"Bollocks, you're right," Ron said.

Obviously overhearing their conversation, a pretty, dark-skinned woman with very kind eyes turned around to look at Ron and Harry. "That's a lovely necklace. Who do you want to buy it for?"

"Umm, a friend of ours," Harry said. "She, err, couldn't make it to Camelot today. We don't have any money to buy it with though."

"Well, that's very sweet of you. How much is it?" she asked.

"Four 'peningas'," Ron said dubiously.

"Tell you what," the woman said, "I'll buy it for you if you'll do me a quick favor."

"Sure, anything," Harry said gratefully.

"Can you take these flowers to my friend Merlin for me?" she asked, gesturing to the basket of purple flowers and what looked like bed sheets that she was carrying. "He needs them urgently for a potion and I'm too busy to deliver them myself at the moment. You'll find him in the court physician's chambers, just up those stairs to the castle and down the hallway to the right."

Both Harry and Ron froze when they heard Merlin's name, but Harry recovered first. "Definitely," he said.

"Thank you," the woman said, smiling warmly at Harry, and she handed him the handful of flowers from the basket. Then, she quickly fished a few silver coins out of the pocket of her dress and handed them to the old woman selling the jewelry, who smiled at her a bit creepily. Harry could see that most of her teeth were missing.

"Thanks!" Harry said, taking the necklace from Ron and pocketing it. "We'll get these flowers to your friend right away." The woman smiled and waved goodbye as she hurried away with her basket of bed sheets.

Harry elbowed Ron, who had been staring, slack-jawed, into space. "Come on, Ron, let's go find Merlin," Harry said.

Ron seemed to snap out of some kind of trance. "But Harry, we can't just barge in on Merlin! What if he's busy or something, and turns us into toads for interrupting him? Or what if we alter the course of history? How does that saying go? Something about a butterfly?" Ron kept scanning the crowd nervously and was patting his hair down self-consciously.

"It'll be fine!" Harry said. "Just follow me, alright?"

"Yeah…" Ron said blankly.

Harry grabbed Ron's arm and half-dragged him back to the castle, where they ascended the front staircase and turned right. They soon came to a door with a wooden sign above it with a picture of a small bottle on it.

"Do you reckon this looks like the right place?" Harry asked.

"Yeah…" Ron said, clearly not really listening. Harry turned to open the door but Ron stopped him before he could.

"Wait, Harry!" he said. "Do I look alright?"

"You've got a spot of dirt on your nose," Harry joked. Ron began to rub at his nose furiously before he saw Harry's amused expression.

"Hey!" he said angrily.

"Stop worrying, Ron, he's not going to turn you into a toad," Harry assured him.

"If you're sure," Ron said doubtfully.

Harry opened the door and called, "Hello? Merlin?"

Harry heard a muffled crash from nearby followed by a muttered curse and then a very frazzled looking Merlin rounded the corner. His black hair was sticking up at funny angles, his blue neckerchief was crooked, and he really did have a spot of dirt on his nose. And everywhere else.

"Wha - Harry!" he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Your friend down in the village said to bring these to you," Harry said, handing him the purple flowers.

"Oh, thanks!" Merlin said. He rushed back around the corner with the flowers and Harry and Ron followed him, Ron half hiding behind Harry despite being several inches taller than him.

It looked as if Merlin were trying to cook something and failing spectacularly. Discarded ingredients littered the work table next to the fire Merlin was working over. A large beaker filled with a muddy brown liquid was boiling tumultuously and looked ready to spill over. Merlin crushed up the flowers and added them to the potion, which immediately began to boil more sedately. Merlin breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks for that, Harry," Merlin said. "Gaius would've killed me if I'd splattered that stuff all over his equipment."

"No problem," said Harry.

"But wait, what are you still doing here in Camelot? Did you make it back to your bed alright?" Merlin asked. "And who's this?" he said, pointing at Ron.

"This is my friend, Ron," Harry said. "Ron, this is Merlin."

"Hi," Ron said in an uncharacteristically meek voice.

"Hello!" Merlin said with a friendly smile.

"I told Ron about that room we found yesterday and he wanted to see it for himself," Harry said.

"Yesterday?" Merlin said, sounding puzzled. "But I saw you not two hours ago."

Harry was equally confused. "Two hours ago I was in the Gryffindor common room. It's been almost 24 hours since we met."

"But...huh?" Merlin said, completely baffled. Harry nodded in agreement, and they let it go for now.

"What are you making?" Harry asked.

Merlin sighed and said, "I'm trying to create a solvent that will dissolve the dirt on the bottom floor of the castle. I've been scrubbing for hours but it doesn't seem to be helping much."

"But, um," Ron said, looking surprised at his own daring and still talking in that strange, meek voice. "Why don't you just use magic to clean it, M-Merlin?"

Merlin's shot Ron a panicked look and then hissed at Harry, "You told him?"

"Uhh, not exactly," Harry said. "It's hard to explain." How could he tell Merlin that someday he would be one of the most famous wizards who ever lived without sounding completely mad?

"Try," Merlin demanded, his posture still stiff with fear.

"Right, well, you see, Ron and I are um, from the future," Harry said, whispering the last part very quietly.

Merlin just stared at him. "Right…"

"It's true! We've gone back ten centuries or more," Ron piped up, seeming to find his voice at last.

"I think that room that we found links our time with yours somehow," Harry explained. "It must be some kind of magic."

Merlin raised his eyebrows and looked back and forth between the two boys. "So you two are wizards-" Harry and Ron nodded "-from hundreds of years in the future?"

"That's about the size of it," said Harry.

"Okay, say I believe you," Merlin said. "That still doesn't explain how you know about my magic."

"Where we're from, everybody does," Ron said. "You're famous!"

"Famous," Merlin intoned dubiously. "What could I possibly be famous for?"

"You're a legend, mate!" Ron said. "People have written loads about how you helped King Arthur ascend the throne and used magic to fight for his kingdom. Every wizard alive knows your name!"

Merlin looked floored. "The dragon did tell me I have a great destiny, but I never could have imagined…"

Harry felt a wave of pity for Merlin. He knew very well what it felt like to be told that you're famous after living a life where almost no one knew who you were. When Hagrid had first told Harry that every wizarding family knew his name, it had been extremely strange and overwhelming, and Harry still wasn't used to the way people would start when he introduced himself, or the eyes that stared at his scar when he walked by. He could hardly imagine what it would feel like to be Merlin, who was more famous even than Harry in the wizarding world.

"People think you're probably the most powerful wizard who ever lived," Ron said reverently, beaming at Merlin.

Merlin snorted. "If I'm the most powerful wizard ever, you must be a pretty sorry lot. I can't even clean a floor without blowing something up."

"I, uhh, I know a spell that might work for that. If you, you know, need help," Ron said shyly.

Merlin glanced back at his potion, which had thickened and was letting off a putrid odor like dirty socks. "Alright, it's worth a try."

Ron grinned and puffed up his chest a bit, looking extremely proud that Merlin wanted his help with a spell.

"Follow me, then," Merlin said. "Quickly, before Arthur checks and sees that the floor's still dirty."

The three of them turned to leave, but then Merlin turned back and said, "Just a moment. I can't leave this mess for Gaius to find."

Harry and Ron saw him hold out his hand and his eyes flashed gold. The random ingredients that were scattered all over the work area flew into the air and then deposited themselves haphazardly in a drawer. With another flick of his wrist, Merlin hid the bubbling potion in a cupboard.

"Blimey, that was amazing! You didn't even use an incantation!" Ron said with an admiring smile.

Merlin grinned at him, obviously not used to being praised for his magic, and then led the two boys out of Gaius' chamber and back down the castle corridor towards the staircase to the lower level. They went down the stairs together, their footsteps echoing through the long hallway ahead of them.

In the dim light from the torches on the walls, Harry could see that Merlin hadn't been lying about having tried to scrub the floor clean. He hadn't noticed when he and Ron had come through here earlier, but there was clearly a circle about a meter in diameter where the dirt on the floor was a slightly lighter shade of brown.

"So what was this spell you were telling me about?" Merlin asked Ron.

"Oh! Right." Ron looked extremely nervous about performing magic in front of Merlin. "My mum uses this charm on our pots and pans all the time."

He took his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at the floor. "Scourgify." A small circle of clean stone became visible beneath Ron's wand. Ron blushed pink as he looked up at Merlin sheepishly.

Merlin shrugged. "It's better than I could do."

Ron looked extremely pleased with himself now, and Harry could just imagine him telling Molly Weasley that he could cast a better cleaning charm than Merlin himself. She would be so proud.

"Ron, would you mind if I borrowed that for a moment?" Merlin asked, gesturing to Ron's wand.

"Yeah!" Ron said a bit too quickly. "Anything you need." He presented his wand to Merlin with both hands like an offering for the gods, and Merlin took it a bit awkwardly.

Merlin cleared his throat and pointed the wand at the floor like he had seen Ron do. "Scourgify!" he said, and a great bang like a gunshot came from Ron's wand as Merlin's eyes burned gold once again. A great whooshing sound filled the hallway and every surface looked freshly polished as far as Harry could see in every direction.

"Whoa!" Harry said appreciatively.

"My wand!" Ron shouted at the same time.

Merlin and Harry both looked back at the wand in Merlin's hand and saw that the tip had splintered into several slivers of wood which curled down like wilting flower petals.

"Oops," Merlin said guiltily. "Sorry." He handed the wand back to Ron who cradled it like an injured bird and glared a bit at Merlin. He seemed much less enamored with the famous warlock now.

Merlin rubbed his neck awkwardly and traded a pained look with Harry.

Harry hid a yawn behind his hand and realized that it was probably close to three in the morning at Hogwarts. Hermione and the rest of the students who had left for the holidays were due back at Hogwarts that afternoon, and he didn't want to be too exhausted to catch her up on everything that had happened. He glanced at his watch to check the time and gasped aloud.

"What's up, Harry?" Ron asked, still cradling his broken wand under one arm.

"Come and look at this," Harry said. Ron and Merlin both crowded around him to look down at the watch on his wrist.

"What in the world?" Ron said.

Merlin just stared at the watch in confusion for a moment. "What is that?" he asked.

"It's a watch," Harry explained. "Like a clock that you can carry around with you. You know, to tell the time."

"Is something wrong with it?" Merlin asked, still confused.

"Do you see that long hand there?" Harry said, and Merlin nodded. "That's supposed to tell how many minutes it is past the hour, but right now it's moving much faster than normal."

"Yeah," Ron said. "It looks like a minute is passing every five seconds or so."

"...okay?" Merlin said, clearly still not getting it.

"According to my watch, we've been here for almost an entire day." Harry said.

"Maybe it's just broken," Ron suggested.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Harry said. "It's just strange is all."

"Do you really not have clocks or anything in Camelot?" Ron asked curiously, seemingly having forgotten about his wand in the excitement of Harry's discovery.

"We don't need anything like that," Merlin said with a shrug. "We wake up when it gets light, sleep when it gets dark, and eat when we're hungry."

"Weird," Ron said.

Harry wondered what Merlin would think of his and Ron's world. If he thought clocks were strange, what would he think of trains and cars? Or television? He also thought Merlin would probably appreciate the existence of places like Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. He had seemed so afraid when Harry and Ron had told him that they knew he had magic. Harry thought he would probably enjoy the freedom that witches and wizards could enjoy in the wizarding world and at Hogwarts. Harry certainly did.

"Merlin, would you like us to show you around Hogwarts when we go?" Harry asked. "I think you'd really like it there."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "And we could also really use your help getting back anyway. The door's shut tight."

"Well, I am curious about this magical school of yours. I never would have dreamed something like that could exist. I can't leave Camelot for too long though. I swear if I turn my back for two seconds some giant, hideous creature attacks his Royal Prattishness. He's like a hideous creature magnet. You should see the princesses who turn up," Merlin said with a reflective smile.

"Great!" Harry said excitedly. "Let's go!" Ron was still too aghast at hearing Prince Arthur referred to as "his Royal Prattishness" to say anything.

The three began to walk down the now spotlessly clean corridor toward the hexagonal room, Ron in front and Harry and Merlin walking side by side behind him. Merlin looked deep in thought so Harry didn't say anything, not wanting to interrupt him.

"Harry," Merlin said slowly. "What is it like in this future of yours...for sorcerers?"

Harry glanced up at him in surprise. "Well, uh, it's fine, I guess. Wizards have their own ministry and everything."

"Are we accepted?" Merlin asked seriously. "Do we live in peace with people who don't have magic?"

"Well…" Harry thought of the Dursleys, who wouldn't tolerate even the mention of magic in their home. Then he thought of Malfoy's arrogantly superior attitude toward muggles and muggleborns. "Not exactly," he concluded sadly.

"Oh," Merlin said, sounding disappointed. "Why not?"

"Most muggles - that's what we call non-magical folk - don't know that magic is real. They think it's all pretend," Harry explained. "And some wizards believe that muggles are inferior. Some are quite prejudiced." Harry was thinking of Malfoy again and an unconscious expression of disgust crept onto his face.

"But that's complete crap!" Merlin said vehemently.

"Of course it is!" said Harry. "But that doesn't stop people from thinking it."

"So you're telling me that Arthur and I will be famous even centuries from now, but people with magic will still have to hide who they are?" Merlin asked angrily. "Why even bother trying? It seems like no matter what you do people are just never going to get along."

Ron turned around, obviously having been listening to their conversation. "Yeah, maybe," he said. "But you've made loads of difference in the lives of wizards. Or, uh, you will make loads of difference anyway. At least people don't burn witches anymore, right?"

"It's a start, at least," Merlin said. He looked to be deep in thought, so his two wizard companions let him be.

They reached the doorway with the spiral symbol on it and Ron pushed it open with a hard shove. The torches still glowed with a dim orange light on all six walls, and the round table still looked dusty and neglected.

"So who do you reckon built this place?" Ron asked Merlin conversationally.

"It must have been a really powerful sorcerer," Merlin replied.

"What, so someone like you?"

"Much more powerful than me!" Merlin said with a laugh. "I've never even heard of anyone powerful enough to bend time like that."

"I wonder why they would want to," Harry said, frowning. "Why connect Camelot and Hogwarts anyway?"

"Don't ask me," said Merlin, and Ron just shrugged distractedly.

"Let's try the door, all together," Ron said. "Maybe we'll be able to get it open with three of us."

Harry and Ron began to push on the door hard, without success. After a moment, Merlin came over and almost as soon as his hand touched the door it swung open.

"Did you use magic?" Ron asked Merlin almost accusingly.

"No! I swear I didn't."

"Hang on," said Harry, an idea forming in his mind. "Merlin, try to open the door back to Camelot.

Merlin did as he asked, looking bemused. The door would not open.

"Now Ron, you try."

When Ron tried the door, it swung open immediately with only the slightest push.

Merlin seemed to understand. "So you can't open the door back to wherever you came from originally. You two can't go back to Hogwarts without me, and I can't return to Camelot without you."

"But why in the name of Merlin would someone want to make a door like that?" Ron said. "Sorry, just an expression," he added hastily when Merlin jumped at the sound of his name.

"I haven't the foggiest," said Harry. "But at least we know now."

"One of you will have to come with me when I go back," Merlin said.

"Alright," Harry and Ron said at the same time. They glanced at each other and Harry thought they would probably have to play a quick game of rock-paper-scissors later to see who would get to escort Merlin back.

"Right!" Merlin said, breaking the slightly awkward silence. "Shall we?"

Merlin looked excited as the three of them went through the doorway and stepped forward over a thousand years. He glanced around once inside Hogwarts' dark corridor and looked a bit disappointed.

"Are you sure this isn't Camelot?" he asked dryly.

"It looks more impressive up above," Harry hastily assured him. He wasn't quite sure why he cared so much, but he really wanted Merlin to like Hogwarts as much as he did.

Harry was so excited to show Merlin around Hogwarts that he completely forgot about the invisibility cloak in his pocket. He lit his wand (Ron's was too damaged to risk doing magic with it) and the three of them made their way forward by the wand light. They climbed several staircases at a jog and Harry almost fell once when his socks slid against the bare stone floor, but Merlin caught his arm and steadied him with a grin.

Harry soon realized that they must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, because they were standing in front of a portrait that Harry didn't recognize of a thin woman with frizzy orange hair who was wearing a dress covered with wands and clocks. As soon as she saw them, the woman in the portrait bellowed at the top of her lungs, "They're heeeeere!"

"Did that portrait just speak?" Merlin gasped.

"Excellent observation, Merlin," the woman said, winking at him.

"Come on, let's get out of here!" Harry said, realizing how loudly the portrait had yelled and just how close they were to the Slytherin common room.

"Not so fast, Potter," said an oily, malevolent voice from the shadows. Professor Snape stepped forward into the circle of wand light. "Would you and Mr. Weasley care to explain where you have been for the past 24 hours?"

* * *

 _A/N: I just love cliffhangers, don't you? Hehehe ;)_

 _A chocolate frog to anyone who noticed my Nightmare Before Christmas and Magic School Bus references. I'm such a dork, I know._

 _Also, just to clarify, time passes 12 times faster at Hogwarts than in Camelot. So two hours in Camelot is a day at Hogwarts, one month is a year, and so on. Why, you ask? All in good time, my friends. All in good time._

 _Please leave a review and let me know what you thought of the chapter! Comments and constructive criticism are appreciated._


	3. Truth or Consequences

" _Not so fast, Potter," said an oily, malevolent voice from the shadows. Professor Snape stepped forward into the circle of wand light. "Would you and Mr. Weasley care to explain where you have been for the past 24 hours?"_

"Snape!" Harry hissed quietly.

"That's _Professor_ Snape to you, Potter," Snape snarled. "And I'll ask again, _where have you been_?

Harry and Ron were frozen with expressions of shock and terror on their faces, as if they were two statues in Medusa's garden.

"Well?" Snape snapped impatiently. "I'm waiting. Or have the two of you gone mute? Although, I'd be lying if I said that wouldn't be an improvement."

"Excuse me," Merlin said, stepping out from behind Harry and Ron. "I'm afraid this is all my fault. Harry and Ron were with me, so don't blame them. If you're going to punish anyone for this, punish me."

"Oh, I intend to," Snape said, his voice practically dripping with venom. "But who, exactly, are you?"

"Oh, right. I'm Merlin. Hi." Merlin gave Snape a small wave, and then stopped abruptly when he saw how very _not amused_ Snape looked. Merlin could hear Harry and Ron both make choked, horrified sounds in their throats.

"You're... _Merlin?"_ Snape said derisively. "I have heard a great many ridiculous lies in my time teaching at Hogwarts, boy, but that is by far the least likely. If you value your safety, you'll try that again. The truth, this time."

Merlin frowned. Was that a threat? He was growing to really dislike the man in front of him. In fact, if dislike could be personified, Merlin thought it would look a lot like this slimy, bat-like man.

"I'm not lying," Merlin said. "My name is Merlin."

"I won't ask again, boy," Snape spat. "Tell me the truth or I will use Veritaserum to extract it from you."

"Veri-what?" Merlin asked.

"My, my," Snape sneered, "I never would have thought it possible for Potter and Weasley to find someone even more dimwitted than themselves."

Merlin really tried not to say anything to provoke the man, but discretion never had been his strong point, especially when he was angry. "You're a teacher at this school, right? Well if Harry and Ron are so dimwitted, what must that say about the idiots who have been teaching them?"

In the resulting silence, you could have heard a thestral sneeze all the way in the forbidden forest. Then, before Merlin had time to react, Snape grabbed him by one of his ears and dragged him away from the portrait, which was now giggling loudly. Merlin heard Harry and Ron running to keep up with them behind him. It was at times like these that Merlin wished his ears didn't stick out so much. It was like they were just tempting people to grab them.

Snape pulled him around a corner and down a long, narrow hallway, and then pushed him through a door at the end of the hallway and into a chair. They were in a dimly lit room with a desk and a gently crackling fireplace in one corner, and Merlin supposed it must have been the professor's office. The place reminded him a bit of Gaius' chambers, with its various jars of potions and strange ingredients in unlikely places, and Merlin found that comforting. Merlin could see Harry and Ron hovering anxiously in the doorway. He shot them a smile to show them that he was fine. And he really was fine. Trading insults with a teacher really didn't hold much terror for him after living under the threat of execution for almost a year now. What was the worst Snape could do, expel him from a school he didn't actually go to?

Snape was standing with his back to Merlin, scanning the rows of shelves for a potion of some kind, Merlin thought. He snatched a small bottle from a shelf and rounded on Merlin with a triumphant, slightly predatory smile.

"So, you've never heard of Veritaserum, I take it?" Snape asked. Merlin shook his head a bit apprehensively and Snape's smile grew wider.

"Veritaserum is a truth potion so potent that three drops would be enough for you to tell me even your most closely kept secrets," he explained gleefully. "So I'm giving you one last chance. What is your name, foolish boy?"

Merlin felt a shudder run through him, and he could only be glad that it was Snape who was threatening him with a truth potion, and not Uther. He had no reason to fear his magic being revealed here, and while there were many other things that he would rather not be forced to tell the truth about, he didn't think Snape would be interested in any of them. Snape had no reason to ask about all the things he regretted, from letting Will take the blame for his magic right before he died to having been unable to save Gwen's father when he was sentenced to death. All that Snape wanted to know was his name, and Merlin would tell him that gladly.

"My name is Merlin," he said through gritted teeth. "That is the name my mother gave me and that is what I will be called until the day I die."

"Lies!" Snape yelled.

Snape brought his hand to Merlin's face and squeezed it to force his mouth open. He poured three drops of the potion into Merlin's mouth just as Harry yelled, "No!"

Harry tried to run forward to stop Snape, but it was too late. Merlin had already swallowed the potion. It tasted just like normal water, much to Merlin's relief (he had had a few too many encounters with some of Gaius' less pleasant concoctions) and he felt no different after having swallowed it. Was it possible that it hadn't worked? Only one way to find out, Merlin thought nervously.

"What did your mother call you as a child?" Snape asked, sounding very much like a cat taunting a bird he had caught before he ate it.

"My little miracle," Merlin said immediately. There was something wrong with his mouth. It didn't seem to be connected to his brain anymore. His thoughts came in sluggishly and his mind felt rather numb, but his mouth didn't seem to care.

Snape was still smiling unpleasantly while Harry and Ron looked at Merlin in mute horror.

"What is your fondest memory of your father?"

"I don't have any. He left my mother before I was born," Merlin said completely without inflection, as if he were reading aloud from a book.

Snape's face twitched for a moment into an expression of...sympathy? Or was it sorrow? But it was gone before Merlin's addled mind could sort it out and the ugly sneer was firmly back in place.

"Now, _what is your name_?" Snape demanded.

"Merlin," came the instant reply.

Snape looked taken aback for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "So you weren't lying. I suppose your foolish mother thought you might achieve fame by borrowing _his_ name. No matter. How did Potter and Weasley come into contact with you?"

Merlin saw Harry and Ron glance at each other in alarm but he couldn't prevent his mouth from saying, "They came through a magical room beneath the castle which connects Hogwarts with my home."

Snape looked very interested indeed. "Did they now? And where exactly do you live?"

"Camelot," Merlin said.

Merlin wouldn't have thought it possible, but Snape's face seemed to become two shades paler as he said this. No one spoke for a moment and Merlin noticed that Harry and Ron seemed to be holding their breath.

" _Who are you?_ " Snape hissed.

Merlin took a deep breath and said in the same flat tone, "I am Merlin, son of Hunith. I am a citizen of Camelot. I am Gaius' ward. I am Prince Arthur's manservant and secret protector. I might be the most powerful sorcerer who ever lived. I am the one whom the druids call Emrys."

Merlin thought the look of complete and honest astonishment that Snape displayed now really didn't look right on his face, as if his facial muscles were unused to displaying that particular emotion. Even Harry and Ron looked awed as they stared at Merlin. He wasn't accustomed to being stared at this much, as he usually worked from the shadows, unnoticed and unappreciated. Merlin had thought some recognition would be nice, but this newfound fame was a step too far. " _Be careful what you wish for, Merlin!"_ a voice that sounded a lot like his mother's singsonged in his head.

Merlin was beginning to think more clearly now, and he hoped that meant that the Veritaserum was wearing off.

"Um, but enough about me!" Merlin said in a falsely cheery tone when he couldn't stand the awed silence any longer.

Snape seemed to snap out of a daze and turned at once in a great whirl of black robes and started for a different corner of his office. Then, he turned back to Merlin and asked, "Do you intend to harm any person within Hogwarts in any way?"

"No," Merlin said as soon as Snape had finished speaking. Damn! What he had said was perfectly true, but Merlin really thought the potion ought to have worn off by now.

Snape nodded curtly, his mouth pressed into a thin line, and he swept to the fireplace in the back corner of his office. He threw a handful of silver powder from a small box on top of the mantle into the flames and they turned a brilliant emerald green. Snape said "headmaster's office" in a clear voice. Then, Merlin watched in amazement as Snape stuck his _entire head_ into the flames. The rest of his body looked quite ridiculous hunched over, head obscured by the green fire. Merlin could tell that Snape was speaking from the way his body was moving, but he couldn't hear what he was saying.

Merlin was completely bewildered and looked to Harry and Ron for some explanation. Harry looked just as confused as Merlin felt, but Ron was watching Snape as if he were doing nothing more unusual than sending a letter.

After a few minutes, Snape pulled his head out of the fire and straightened up. "You," he said brusquely to Merlin, not making eye contact, "will accompany me to the headmaster's office." Merlin found it a bit funny that Snape still refused to call him by his name. Merlin had certainly been forced to say it enough times that Snape should really know it by now. "Potter, Weasley, you shall join us. Professor Dumbledore would like a word with all of you." Ah, so he must have been speaking to this Professor Dumbledore when his head was in the fire, Merlin suddenly understood. Why anyone would choose to communicate in such a fashion still eluded him. From Snape's tone Merlin could tell that it had not been his decision to bring Harry and Ron along. He wondered why Snape seemed to hate them so much, especially Harry.

It was a long, quiet, and extremely awkward walk to the headmaster's office. Snape lead the way at a pace that made it clear that he spared no thought to the fact that he was walking with children who had much shorter legs than he did, forcing Harry and Ron to half jog behind him. Merlin had seen his type before in the spoiled noblemen who sometimes visited Camelot who had young servants scurrying after them. Having been one of said servants on several occasions, Merlin found such behavior extremely irritating.

Finally, they found themselves at the end of a long hallway in front of a stone gargoyle.

Snape leaned forward and whispered, "Ginger newts."

A burst of laughter escaped Merlin, as it was exactly the last thing he had been expecting Snape to say. Snape's withering glare shut him up immediately as the gargoyle leapt back to reveal a rising circular staircase behind it. The four wizards stepped onto the staircase which spiraled upward until they reached a door. Snape rapped on the door three times and Merlin heard a muffled voice say, "Enter."

Merlin stepped curiously into the room after Snape, and saw that it was unlike any other room he had ever been in before. Merlin could see that it was an office, but while Snape's office had reminded him of home, Dumbledore's office reminded him very forcefully that he was, in fact, a whole millennium away from his home.

The office was a beautiful, circular room filled with strange objects, few of which Merlin could identify. On several spindly tables sat strange whizzing silver objects, and the walls were filled with more of the portraits whose occupants moved about, which Merlin found a bit unnerving. He could also see a hat perched on top of a tall bookshelf which Merlin could have sworn had a face. In the center of the room there was a claw-footed desk covered with books, papers, and quills scattered on its surface, and behind it sat an old man with long silver hair and beard wearing half-moon spectacles, dark violet robes, and the subtle, knowing half-smile of a man who has lived long enough to have unraveled some of life's mysteries.

"Ah, Severus," the man said, standing up when Snape stepped into the room. Then, for just a moment, his piercing blue eyes met Merlin's, and Merlin could see in his gaze a spark of...recognition? Merlin wasn't sure if the man knew who he was, or if he just looked at everyone that way. Then, his eyes moved away to look at Harry and Ron with an expression of pure relief, and Merlin wondered if he might have imagined it.

"Thank goodness!" he said to Harry and Ron. "I cannot tell you how relieved I am to see that the two of you are alright. The last time I can remember being so worried about a student was when a young witch decided to sleep outside on the astronomy tower one night some twenty years ago and was never heard from again. As soon as your friend Miss Granger informed me that the two of you were missing I directed the staff to search the entire castle for you. They have been at it for hours and I am sure they will be very glad to have a rest now."

Harry and Ron looked at each other guiltily. "Er, sorry, Professor," Harry said. "We, uh, didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"Nevertheless, Mr. Potter, I'm afraid that you have inadvertently caused a great deal of concern for the teachers and students of Hogwarts. Therefore, I should hope that you have some explanation for your whereabouts over the last 24 hours. If not, I shall have to discipline you as I would any other students who break school rules by staying out past curfew, and I dare say you may not like the consequences." Dumbledore peered over his glasses at Harry and Ron sternly, and Merlin thought that the strength of his gaze would have been enough to make even Uther do what he asked. "The story please, gentlemen."

"Well, you see," Harry began timidly, "I was down near the Slytherin Dungeons looking for, uh, something-"

"Were you hoping to find the Mirror of Erised, by any chance?" Dumbledore asked with a knowing smile.

"Yeah," Harry said, sounding shocked. "How did you-"

"Never mind, Harry, please continue."

"So, uh, I was looking for the mirror and I guess I got lost because I ended up in this room…" Harry went on to describe meeting Merlin, finding his way back to the common room and bringing Ron back to Camelot with him the following night, and how time seemed to move differently in Camelot than at Hogwarts. All the time Harry talked, Dumbledore kept his gaze fixed completely on Harry and Ron and never so much as glanced at Merlin.

When Harry had finished speaking, Dumbledore paused, looking thoughtful. "What a fascinating tale," he said calmly. "If it happened as you say, I see no need for punishment this time. I must warn you, however, that if either of you are caught wandering the castle after curfew again I shall not be so lenient. I say this truly in the interests of your safety."

They both nodded. "We understand," said Harry.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore said. "Thank you for being honest with me, both of you. Now, do you think the two of you can make your way back to Gryffindor Tower without getting lost?"

Harry and Ron nodded, looking confused.

"Very good. In that case, if you don't mind I would like to have a private word with Professor Snape and our young visitor here," Dumbledore said, inclining his head to Merlin, who suddenly felt a bit apprehensive about where this conversation might go. "And I believe your friend Miss Granger is anxiously waiting in the Gryffindor common room for your return."

Harry looked as if he wanted to say something, but Dumbledore's expression brooked no arguments. The two boys nodded a bit sulkily and left the office, leaving Merlin alone with Snape and Dumbledore. Suddenly, he felt very much the center of attention as Dumbledore looked at him curiously and Snape continued to look anywhere but at Merlin.

"So, you must be this Merlin I have been hearing so much about," Dumbledore said, wry amusement evident in his voice.

"Yeah, that's me," Merlin said, squirming a bit under Dumbledore's piercing gaze.

Dumbledore chuckled good-naturedly and the sound seemed to set Snape off like a cork popped off of a wine bottle. "Albus, you can't _possibly_ believe that this, this, _little boy_ is the most powerful wizard who ever lived!"

"Severus, Severus, calm down! Some part of you must also believe it to be true or you would not have brought him to me."

"I would not believe something so foolish, but-" Snape shot a furtive little guilty look at Dumbledore and then resumed speaking to the bookshelf behind him, "-he did swear it while under the effects of Veritaserum."

Dumbledore looked up at him sharply and when he spoke there was an edge of something like impatience beneath the calmness. "The use of Veritaserum is strictly forbidden except with express permission from the Ministry of Magic. You know this as well as I do."

"I know!" Snape hissed. "But I couldn't well believe that he was Merlin on his word alone. Merlin is supposed to be hundreds of years old, wise beyond measure, and so powerful that merely being in his presence is said to be painful. I've even heard that to look into his eyes is to understand all of the universe just for a moment. He is _not_ supposed to be an insolent brat!"

Merlin tried to hold it in, he really did, but the laughter bubbled out of him before he could stop himself. He laughed until his eyes watered and his sides ached, and soon Dumbledore joined him. Snape looked completely incensed.

"Ah, I'm sorry," Merlin said when his giggles finally subsided. "I just couldn't help myself. Can you say the bit about my eyes one more time?"

Snape's glare could have melted steel. Merlin promptly shut up.

"Severus, my dear man, hasn't it ever occurred to you that every story has a beginning?" Dumbledore said kindly, smiling at the still enraged potions master. "Merlin was no more born a wise old man than I was. And believe me when I say, that I was not."

"Even so," Snape said, soundly supremely unconvinced, "how can you give the benefit of the doubt to a stranger who could have potentially kidnapped two students?"

"Severus, I know you were concerned about Harry, although you would never admit it. Believe me, so was I," Dumbledore said quietly, gently. "But he is safe now and I do not believe Merlin was in any way responsible for his disappearance."

Snape crossed his arms and frowned, not looking at either of them.

"Well, is there some way I can prove to both of you that I am who I say I am?" Merlin asked.

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "Although I am quite certain that you are not lying, perhaps a bit of proof would not go amiss, if you wouldn't mind."

Merlin nodded. "What did you have in mind?"

Dumbledore crossed his office to a cabinet behind his desk. He opened it and removed a large stone basin which he carried to his desk. Merlin could see that a silvery liquid, almost like bottled moonlight, swirled slowly in the basin.

"What is that?" he asked.

"This is a pensieve. It is a magical object that can be used to store thoughts when the mind becomes overburdened. One can use it to remove a memory and relive it at one's leisure. If you would care to do so, I would consider that sufficient proof."

"That would be sufficient to convince me as well," Snape said begrudgingly.

"But what sort of memory?" Merlin asked cautiously. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of the two wizards being able to view something so personal as his own memories.

"Something of Camelot?" Snape said sarcastically, still ill-tempered.

"That isn't a bad idea, Merlin. Think of something that will leave us with no doubt of your identity. When you have it, I will extract it for you," said Dumbledore.

Merlin didn't like the sound of that. "Extraction" sounded painful. And what could he show them that would allay their suspicions and prove that he was someone who they saw as a legend? The day he first met Arthur? Or maybe his all too recent duel with the sorceress Nimueh? Then, the perfect memory came to him in a flash, and he nodded at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore raised his wand and touched it to Merlin's temple. He felt a curious emptying sensation, like a headache subsiding, and he watched as Dumbledore pulled his wand away with a few strands of the same silvery substance from the basin hanging from the tip. Dumbledore tapped his wand delicately on the edge of the pensieve and the strands swirled as they joined the others. Then, he stirred the contents with his wand and in a moment a scene from Merlin's memory began to play out in the basin. Merlin, Dumbledore, and Snape all gathered around the pensieve and Merlin followed the wizards' lead when they leaned forward and pressed their faces almost completely into the silver substance. In an instant, Merlin felt a curious falling sensation and found himself looking at himself.

It was late at night and they stood in Camelot's castle courtyard and watched as his younger self left Gaius' chambers in a hurry.

"So this is Camelot," Dumbledore said dreamily, looking at the surrounding buildings with interest.

Why in the world had he worn that shirt? It really didn't look good with his complexion. Merlin felt self conscious as Dumbledore and Snape stared at the younger version of himself. They were standing in plain view of his younger self and Merlin wondered why he couldn't see them. They didn't exactly blend in with their billowing robes. Then, he remembered that this was only a memory and felt rather foolish.

They followed young Merlin into the dungeons and watched as he distracted the guards by flicking their dice out of reach with magic.

"Who would trust these _imbeciles_ with guard duty?" Snape asked derisively.

"That would be King Uther," Merlin replied, smiling cheekily. Snape looked disconcerted, as if his world had just been tilted off center.

"Gentlemen, we seem to be falling behind," Dumbledore reminded them serenely.

They scurried forward and followed younger Merlin as his torchlight led them down a long flight of stairs. He stopped when he reached a small ledge at the bottom of the stairs and the three wizards stopped behind him, gazing out at the large cavern in front of them.

*"Where are you?" the younger Merlin asked the empty air.

Suddenly, a great whooshing sound filled the air and a huge golden dragon alighted on a pile of rocks. Merlin was the only one who was expecting it and he watched with amusement as the two older wizards and his past self all took a step back.

"I'm here!" Kilgharrah said. "How small you are for such a great destiny."

"It talks!" Snape said with wonder. Merlin just smirked at him.

"...what destiny?" his younger self was saying.

"Your gift, Merlin, was given to you for a reason."

"So there is a reason."

"Arthur is the Once and Future King who will unite the land of Albion," the Great Dragon said assuredly.

"Right." His younger self sounded skeptical. Merlin couldn't blame him. Some days he still couldn't quite believe it himself.

"But he faces many threats from friend and foe alike," Kilgharrah continued sagely.

"I don't see what this has to do with me." You'll know soon enough, Merlin thought.

"Everything. Without you, Arthur will never succeed. Without you, there will be no Albion." Merlin glanced at Snape and Dumbledore. Snape looked as if he had tasted something sour and his face had gotten stuck that way. Dumbledore's twinkling smile never faltered.

"No. No, you've got this wrong." Merlin could remember his disbelief as if it were yesterday. It was the first of a great many surreal things that would happen to him over the course of the next year in Camelot.

"There is no right or wrong, only what is and what isn't."

"But I'm serious! If anyone wants to go and kill him, they can go ahead. In fact, I'll give them a hand." Merlin winced as Dumbledore and Snape turned to look at him with raised eyebrows.

"Uh, we didn't exactly get along very well at first," Merlin explained hurriedly.

"None of us can choose our destiny, Merlin, and none of us can escape it," the dragon said.

"No. No way. No. No. There must be another Arthur because this one's an idiot." Well, not wrong there. The one and only idiot prince of Camelot.

"Perhaps it's your destiny to change that," Kilgharrah said, his voice knowing, and he flew off with a great flap of his wings.

"Easier said than done," Merlin muttered to the Great Dragon as if he could hear him.

"Wait! Wait! Wait, stop! No, I- I need to know more!" younger Merlin yelled. Bloody dragon being enigmatic as always. That would never cease to annoy Merlin.*

The memory began to fade around them, and Merlin found himself standing beside the pensieve once more. Dumbledore and Snape were standing across from him. Snape didn't seem to realize that his mouth was hanging open. Dumbledore still looked supremely unperturbed.

"Do you believe me now?" Merlin asked hopefully. If that hadn't convinced them, he didn't know what else would.

"Yes, I daresay we have no doubt of your identity now!" Dumbledore assured him. "It is truly an honor to meet you, Merlin," he said with a respectful nod.

"But, but-" Snape spluttered, but he didn't seem to know what he wanted to say and he snapped his mouth shut. He was looking at Merlin in apparent alarm and disappointment.

"Never meet your heroes," Merlin quipped at him.

"Hmph," Snape huffed. It might have just been Merlin's imagination, but he thought Snape's cheeks looked a bit pink.

"So, Severus, are you satisfied that Merlin did not kidnap the two young Gryffindors?" Dumbledore asked.

"I, well, yes. I suppose so." The man sounded flustered and looked as if he had been knocked off balance.

"Excellent! I quite agree," Dumbledore beamed at him. "Now, Severus, if you don't mind I would like a quick word with Merlin alone."

"I, uh, of course." Snape practically fled from the room as soon as it was clear that he was dismissed. Merlin imagined Snape would probably do his best to pretend this night had never happened.

The full force of Dumbledore's gaze fell completely upon Merlin as soon as they were alone, and he got the uncomfortable feeling that Dumbledore could see straight through to his soul.

"Now, Merlin, there are a few matters which I would like to discuss with you, now that I know for certain that you are who you say you are."

"Alright," Merlin said a bit apprehensively.

"You should know that I have been awaiting your arrival for a very long time."

"What? You have?" Merlin had no idea what to make of that. Given the accidental nature of his arrival, how was that even possible?

"I cannot tell you how I heard that you would be visiting Hogwarts, but I promise you that all will become clear in time."

This man was worse than Kilgharrah. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Let's just say that a mutual friend told me to expect you sometime this year. This friend has asked me to convey you a message."

"What is it?" Merlin asked.

"They said to tell you, 'The path to evil is paved with ignorance.' Does that mean anything to you?"

Merlin was drawing a blank. It sounded like good advice, but how in the world did that apply to him? And who was this mysterious friend who knew both Dumbledore and himself? "I don't think so," he told Dumbledore.

Far from disappointed, Dumbledore looked completely unconcerned. "Ah, well, I'm sure it will make sense in time," he said cheerfully. "That is all I wished to discuss. Perhaps it would be wise to return to Camelot now, before you are missed. Time is a fragile thing, and I would not want to be the unfortunate wizard who stopped Merlin from fulfilling his destiny because I didn't know when it was time to shut my gob!"

"Erm, right."

"Do you think you can find your way back to Camelot on your own? If not, I would be happy to escort you," Dumbledore offered.

"Oh, no!" Merlin said a bit too quickly. "I mean, uh, I think I can find my way back just fine, thanks."

"If you're sure," Dumbledore said, smiling brightly. Merlin nodded. He was good at finding his own way around castles.

"In that case, I wish you all the luck in the world, Merlin, for it can't be easy for one so young to shoulder the burden of such a large destiny. I am sure that we will meet again."

"Right," Merlin said. "Well, see you later then." He waved a bit nervously and turned to leave. He could feel Dumbledore's piercing eyes boring into his back as he rushed on his way out the door. Frankly, he was glad to be away from Dumbledore. Something about the man unnerved him despite his kindly manner.

He half-jogged back to where he remembered Snape's office was. He really didn't want to deal with Arthur if he noticed that he was gone. He really hoped Harry and Ron had been right about the way time passed differently in Hogwarts than Camelot, because if so, Merlin thought he might have only been missing from Camelot for about ten minutes.

The sound of a woman clearing her throat loudly interrupted his musings. He was standing in front of the portrait of the woman with the frizzy orange hair once again.

"Yoohoo!" the woman said. "I have something for you, Merlin." She was pointing to a note which was taped to her frame. "Harry left that for you and said to make sure you got it!"

"Right, thanks!" said Merlin, and he took the note. Scratched out in untidy handwriting was the following message:

Merlin,

Meet me in the special room next Saturday at midnight (12 hours from now your time?).

-Harry

Today was a Sunday so six days from now Hogwarts time was...Merlin did a bit of mental math and thought that Harry's calculations checked out. He would meet with Harry at about midnight tonight his time. He would have to make sure not to enter the room until Harry got there to make sure that the door didn't-

Shit.

Merlin remembered suddenly that without someone's help with the door, he was trapped in Hogwarts. _Damn it_.

He looked around frantically, searching for some solution as if he expected it to appear out of thin air. Then, his eyes fell reluctantly on the door to Snape's office.

He fought a fierce internal battle and eventually the side which knew that a little social unpleasantness was preferable to being trapped alone in a dark castle at night won out.

With a groan, Merlin walked to Snape's door and knocked.

He waited ten seconds, 30 seconds, one minute, and just before Merlin gave up and decided that Snape must not be there, the door was thrown open and a very annoyed looking Snape appeared on the other side. "You had better have a very good reason for disturbing me," he hissed dangerously when he saw who had knocked. "Why are you still here?"

So Merlin explained how the doors in the strange room worked and that he was trapped in Hogwarts until someone helped him with the door to Camelot.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "If I help you, will you just leave me alone?"

"Gladly," Merlin replied.

The two men made their way down to the room in silence that passed far beyond the range of awkward as the minutes wore on, until Snape finally broke the silence by snarling in frustration when the door to Hogwarts slammed shut behind him. Merlin pushed the door back open for Snape immediately.

Snape's beetle black eyes finally held an expression other than irritation when they beheld the hexagonal room for the first time. The look of awe made his features look softer somehow, and less forbidding.

"Is Camelot really just on the other side of that door?" he asked softly, almost wistfully.

"Yes." Merlin looked at him in surprise.

"You are not what I expected," Snape admitted in the same quiet tone.

"Sorry to disappoint," Merlin said, smiling at Snape genially.

Snape crossed the room, opened the door, and held it open for Merlin. Merlin was touched by this small gesture of respect.

"You know, you aren't nearly as nasty as you pretend to be," Merlin commented.

"I have no idea what you mean," Snape said, but there was definitely the faintest glimmer of a real smile on his face now for the first time. Merlin supposed that some people were layered, like an onion. There seemed to be more to Snape than met the eye.

Merlin nodded to him as he walked through the door and was transported instantly back a millennium in time. The door shut softly behind him, and Merlin breathed a sigh of relief. It was good to be home. Now he had 12 hours to himself and then he would find out what Harry wanted to talk to him about.

" _Merlin_!" He heard a muffled yell from higher in the castle.

Damn it. He should've known. When did he ever get time to himself?

* * *

 _A/N: So there you go! Chapter 3 over and done with. I hope you enjoyed it, because I certainly enjoyed writing it. :) Although I've just noticed that I can't seem to go a chapter without making a reference to some children's show/movie. Hmm._

 _By the way, my goal is to update about once a week when my schedule permits it. The next month or so might be pretty hectic for me, but I'll try my best!_

 _*The dialogue between Merlin and Kilgharrah comes directly from the transcript of episode 1 of Merlin. No copyright infringement intended! Please nobody sue me!_

 _Thank you to everyone who reviewed the previous chapters! Reviews make me very happy! And you want to make me happy, don't you? I know you do. You're a nice person, you just can't help it._


	4. The Warlock's Apprentice

When something captured Hermione Granger's interest, she gave it all of her attention. She was so focused that the only way she wouldn't learn everything there was to know about it or master every element of it was if she was physically incapable. It was this laser-sharp focus and determination which made her the brightest witch of her age. That, combined with her natural courage and resourcefulness, made her a nearly unstoppable force of nature when she wanted to be.

Unfortunately for Harry, what had captured Hermione's interest this time was none other than Merlin, whom Harry and Ron had just told her they had met. Harry and Ron had just returned from Dumbledore's office to find her waiting for them, her brows drawn together with concern and a hundred questions on her lips. When she saw that they were fine and had not, in fact, been kidnapped by whoever was trying to steal whatever it was Fluffy was guarding, her concern was replaced by boundless curiosity. The three of them were now sitting on the comfy armchairs around the fire in the Gryffindor common room while Hermione interrogated them.

"Really, though? You're absolutely sure?" she asked for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Yeah, he was definitely Merlin. He admitted it under Veritaserum and everything," Ron said yet again.

"Wow, I just can't believe it!" Hermione said. She was grinning hugely and had the same look in her eyes that she got when she found a particularly good book. "Did you see him perform any magic?"

"He did a wandless charm on a bar of soap to make it guide me back to the common room when I got lost," Harry said.

"Yeah, and he blew up my wand," Ron muttered under his breath. Harry shot him a sympathetic look.

"He did what?" Hermione asked sharply.

Ron showed her his ruined wand with a sullen frown, but if anything, Harry thought she looked even more impressed judging from the way her eyes lit up.

"He must be really powerful!" she said. Ron huffed in annoyance.

"Does he look like his portraits?" Hermione asked.

"Er, not really," Harry said. "He was pretty young, maybe a few years older than the seventh years."

"Yeah, my mum has a portrait of him in the kitchen, and he looks nothing like that in real life," Ron added. "He doesn't have a beard or anything. Actually, he kind of looked like he could be Harry's older brother."

"You're making that up," Harry said, frowning. He wasn't really _that_ scrawny, was he?

"I'm really not, mate. And I'm telling you, Hermione, whoever first did a portrait of him must have cocked it up big time."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Ronald!" Hermione said. "Just because he's young now, when you happened to cross paths with him, doesn't mean he'll always be! I'm sure the portraits we have of him now were painted when he was older, after he became famous."

"Oh, right," Ron said, cheeks turning a bit pink.

"I can't believe _you_ got to meet Merlin and _I_ didn't," Hermione complained. "I love learning about magical history! And I would have asked him all about his magic. Just think of what he could have shown me!"

"Well, he did say he'd teach me a spell," Harry said.

Hermione's eyes went round as saucers. " _Merlin_ offered to teach you a spell? Oh, Harry! You did say yes, didn't you? What is he going to teach you? When are you going to learn it?"

"I'm not sure exactly," Harry said. "I think he's going to teach me that guiding spell but we didn't really work out a time."

"But this is perfect, Harry!" Hermione said excitedly. "You can learn spells from Merlin and then teach them to me!"

"But Hermione, why don't you just come with me and meet him yourself?" Harry asked.

Hermione ran a hand through her bushy brown hair self-consciously. "Oh, well, he doesn't know me and he might not want to teach me. And what if I do a spell wrong and nothing happens? In front of Merlin!"

"Hermione, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were shy," said Ron.

"I am _not_ shy!" she snapped. "I'm just, um, being practical. He already knows Harry and has agreed to teach him something, after all. It wouldn't be right for me to try to take his place."

Don't worry, Hermione," Harry said, "I'll ask him to come back to Hogwarts again sometime and then you can meet him."

"Well, if you think he wouldn't mind…"

"Definitely not," Harry said. Hermione beamed brightly at him.

"In the meantime, would you ask him a few questions for me?" she asked eagerly.

"Yeah, sure."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Ask him how old he was when he first started doing magic, when he first met Prince Arthur, what Camelot's government is like, if he knows of any all magical communities-"

"Hold on," Harry interrupted her. "Ron, can I borrow your quill?"

Twenty minutes later Harry stood waiting near Snape's office under his invisibility cloak hoping to catch Merlin on his way back to Camelot so that he could ask to meet with him later, but Merlin was nowhere in sight. Maybe he was still in Dumbledore's office? Harry wondered what they were talking about.

After a while, Harry got tired of waiting and decided to leave a note for Merlin to find. The batty woman in the portrait seemed very happy to help (she probably never received this much attention after all) so he left it with her and returned to his dormitory, hoping fervently that Merlin would receive it.

The next six days seemed to pass in slow motion for Harry. He was busy with homework from the new term and potions class on Friday seemed to take twice as long as usual knowing that the next day he might be learning magic from Merlin. On the plus side, Snape seemed distracted and more subdued than usual during class and only deducted five points from Gryffindor instead of his usual twenty or more.

The only truly exciting thing that happened that week was that he, Ron, and Hermione discovered what it was that Fluffy was guarding. It was the Philosopher's Stone, an object which had endowed its creator, Nicholas Flamel, with eternal life. Harry was convinced, now more than ever, that Snape was trying to steal it, and he would do whatever it took to prevent that from happening. He added the Stone to the now quite long list of things he wanted to talk to Merlin about.

Finally, Saturday night arrived cold and stormy and Harry made the long journey down to the hexagonal room, managing not to get lost mostly by luck. When he reached the door he stowed his invisibility cloak in his pocket next to the list of questions for Merlin and held his lit wand aloft in his right hand.

He was careful this time not to cross the threshold into the room when he opened the door. Harry scanned the room quickly and tried not to feel too disappointed when he saw that Merlin wasn't there yet. It was still early after all. There was a small chance that Merlin hadn't received his note, but Harry tried not to worry about that. He sat on the cold stone floor and leaned back against the open door, prepared to wait however long it would take for Merlin to show up.

It was completely silent and dark except for the gentle crackling and glowing of the torches inside the room, and Harry hadn't been waiting for very long when he felt his eyelids beginning to droop. Despite his best efforts to stay awake, sleep called to him like siren song. It had been a very long week, after all, and he had been up late talking with Ron and Hermione the night before about all the things he ought to ask Merlin. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a moment…

Harry woke up abruptly to someone shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked into a pair of blue ones. Merlin was crouched down in front of Harry, looking at him with his head cocked to one side. He straightened it and grinned when he saw that Harry was awake.

Merlin stood up. "Been waiting long?" he asked wryly.

"Er, no, not really," Harry said, scrambling to his feet. The door slammed shut behind him.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," Merlin said, sounding contrite. "Gaius woke up when I tried to sneak out and I had to come up with an explanation fast. I told him I forgot to muck out the stables and that Arthur would be furious if it wasn't done when he woke up, and he gave me a lecture about how forgetfulness could get me killed someday. I'm not sure he totally believed me, though. And he definitely won't when I don't come back stinking of horse dung."

"It's fine!" Harry said. "I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble." Suddenly all of the things he wanted to ask Merlin about seemed rather unimportant now that he knew he'd gotten Merlin in trouble. Maybe Ron and Hermione were rubbing off on him, because he was now acutely aware that it was _Merlin_ 's time he was wasting, the most important figure in wizarding history.

"Believe me, I've been in far worse trouble," Merlin said with a self-deprecating smile, "and besides, I've been wanting to speak to you as well. That school of yours is amazing! I really wish I could've found out about it when I was your age. It could've saved my mother a lot of trouble. Do you realize how lucky you are?"

"Yeah, I do," Harry said. It was true. He was thankful for every day that he spent at Hogwarts instead of with the Dursleys. There was no more toxic a place to live than one where you were punished for declaring who you are.

"Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about?" Merlin asked.

"Umm, I, uh-" Harry's mouth felt dry and suddenly he couldn't remember any of the things Hermione had told him to ask Merlin about. He scrambled for the list in his pocket, feeling extremely awkward, while Merlin looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"My friend Hermione wanted me to ask you a few questions for her," Harry mumbled, "I've got a list if you wouldn't mind…"

"Oh! Of course!" Merlin said, looking equal parts pleased and embarrassed. He looked around and his eyes fell on the table. "I guess we can use this table. Doesn't look like anyone who would care has been around for a long time." He idly brushed a line of dust off of the round table with his finger.

Harry and Merlin pulled two high-backed chairs out from the table and sat in them facing each other. Harry glanced down at the long piece of parchment with the list of questions on it and realized that it was closer to a full interview than just a few questions. He silently cursed Hermione's excessive desire for knowledge and hoped that Merlin wouldn't think he was a complete idiot.

"Right, well, first off," Harry began, "how old were you when you first started using magic?"

"My mother says I was levitating things before I could speak," Merlin said with a wistful smile. He went on to speak fondly of how he spent his childhood hiding his magic from his neighbors in Ealdor but using it secretly for small tricks when he was alone with his friend Will. Harry noticed that Merlin seemed sad when he spoke about his friend, and he wondered if Will had died. Harry vaguely remembered from his years of muggle education that people living in medieval times often died young from diseases, starvation, and fighting, and wondered if Will had died from one of those things. He couldn't imagine living with the knowledge that Ron or Hermione could die suddenly any time, and he felt a rush of pity for Merlin. His world wasn't perfect, but it certainly had some big advantages over life centuries before.

As he continued to ask Hermione's questions, Harry learned more and more about Merlin's world. He learned that King Uther had outlawed magic years ago and that any sorcerer who remained in Camelot had to keep their magic secret or they would be killed. This was drastically different from what Harry had thought from watching muggle cartoons.

When Harry asked him about the Philosopher's Stone, Merlin said that he had never heard of it but that he didn't think Harry was right about Snape being the one who was trying to steal it. When Harry asked how he could possibly know that, Merlin just said that it was a hunch, but assured Harry that his hunches tended to be spot on more often than not. Harry was reluctant to put his suspicions about Snape to rest, but he pushed Merlin's words to the back of his mind to reflect on them later.

Merlin also talked about the Druids, a community of pacifists who used magic that was deeply connected with the Old Religion, what it was like to work as Prince Arthur's personal manservant (this part was punctuated by muttered curses and several unflattering nicknames), and the variety of magical creatures which attacked Camelot on a regular basis. Harry thought Hagrid would have been delighted to learn about the ancestors of the creatures he loved so much.

Harry was picturing Hagrid trying to befriend a questing beast and didn't notice for a moment that Merlin had stopped speaking.

"Sorry?" Harry said when he realized that Merlin must have asked him a question.

"I said," Merlin said, looking amused, "isn't it about time for you to head back to bed?"

Harry gave a start, realizing that Merlin was right and it must be quite late now indeed. He checked his watch and then stared at it for several seconds.

"What's wrong?" said Merlin.

"I would say that my watch must be broken, but given what happened last Sunday I think something else might be going on."

Merlin frowned. "What's it doing this time?"

"It's not moving at all," said Harry. "Do you think it's possible that time doesn't pass in this room?"

"I've just been to a magical school a thousand years in the future where my name is used as an expression. I'll believe anything is possible today."

"Yeah," Harry said, "me too."

"I really hope you're right," Merlin said nonchalantly, "because if no time has passed then maybe I can convince Gaius that I discovered another servant had mucked out the stables already."

"Yeah, but it's really strange, isn't it? Why would anyone bother to change how time works just in this room?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Merlin said with a shrug, "but I've never even heard of magic like that existing."

Harry suddenly remembered the other thing he'd been wanting to ask Merlin about. "Hey, speaking of magic, would you still be willing to teach me a spell or two sometime?"

"Of course!" Merlin said, eyes lighting up. "I can show you one right now, if you want. If time doesn't pass in here then we can take as long as we want, right? As long as you're not too tired. It's always a thousand times harder for me to learn a spell when I'm tired."

"No! I feel fine!" Harry said. He was a bit tired but he was far too excited at the idea of learning magic directly from the wizard who, according to Hermione, invented many of the spells that modern wizards used every day.

"What kind of spell would you like me to show you?" Merlin asked.

"How about that guiding spell you put on the bar of soap?" Harry suggested. "That was really cool."

"Yeah! That one shouldn't be too hard," Merlin said enthusiastically. "But we need an object to cast it on."

"Umm," Harry said, casting about for any object that would be easy to enchant. The only object he had on him that he wouldn't miss was the sheet of parchment with Hermione's list on it, so he mentally shrugged and held it out to Merlin. Merlin took it with a grin.

"So, you might find it easier to channel your magic through your wand if that's what you're used to." Harry nodded and took out his wand.

"I'm going to say the incantation and then I want you to repeat after me, all right?" Harry nodded and Merlin began to chant the spell. " _Bebiede þe arisan ealdu, astrye_."

Harry repeated the spell and Merlin corrected his pronunciation a few times before declaring him ready.

"After you say the spell you want to add whoever it is meant to guide to the end. Since you're going to tell the object to guide yourself, you'll say _mé_."

"Me?" Harry asked.

"No, _mé_."

"But how's that different?"

Merlin looked stumped for a moment. "I don't know. Just trust me, it is," he said. "Now, are you ready to try it?"

Harry nodded and took the piece of parchment in one hand, pointing his wand at it with the other. " _Bebiede þe arisan ealdu, astrye mé,_ " he said firmly.

Nothing happened.

"Don't be discouraged," Merlin said, "it didn't work for me the first time either."

Harry tried again. And again. He tried pronouncing it differently. He tried swishing his wand as he said the spell. He tried it with his wand actually touching the parchment. Nothing happened.

"Maybe another demonstration?" Harry suggested, feeling frustrated at his apparent lack of skill.

"Sure," Merlin said. He didn't seem disappointed that Harry hadn't been able to get the spell yet, and Harry guessed that he'd probably had his fair share of trouble with spells before too.

Merlin took the parchment from Harry and held one hand out towards it, palm facing the page. " _Bebiede þe arisan ealdu, astrye mé._ "

The parchment glowed blue and folded itself in half lengthwise. Merlin picked up the parchment, held it close to his mouth, and said, "Harry."

The parchment fluttered out of his hand and flew, folded halves flapping like the wings of a butterfly, to land on Harry's head, still flapping gently.

Harry looked up and went a bit cross eyed. He and Merlin both laughed.

" _Ályne_ ," Merlin said, and the paper stopped flapping and the blue glow disappeared. It drifted down from Harry's head and he caught it in one hand.

"You know, Harry, maybe it's your wand that's causing you problems. Haven't you ever tried a spell without it?"

"No," Harry said, "most wizards can't do wandless magic in my time. Dumbledore's the only person I know who can."

"Well, it could still be worth a try," Merlin said.

Harry shrugged and held his palm out towards the parchment like he had seen Merlin do. " _Bebiede þe arisan ealdu, astrye mé._ "

This time, Harry felt a surge of something that felt like electricity move through his arm and to his huge surprise he saw that the paper was glowing and folding itself just like it had for Merlin.

"You did it!" Merlin shouted gleefully.

"I did it," Harry said numbly, still not quite believing his eyes.

"I guess Dumbledore isn't the only one who can do wandless magic now," Merlin said proudly, beaming at Harry, who smiled back at him.

"Ron and Hermione are never going to believe this!" Harry said. He held the parchment close to his face for a moment, transfixed by its glow, and then placed it safely in his pocket.

"I think it's about time you go and tell them how talented you are. You must be exhausted, and I'm pretty tired myself," Merlin said, hiding a yawn behind his hand.

"Yeah," Harry said. He _was_ tired now that he thought about it. When the spell had finally worked it had felt as if he had just run a marathon, but he had been too excited to care.

Harry pushed the door to Camelot back open for Merlin and Merlin did the same to the door to Hogwarts.

"Can we, um, can we meet again sometime?" Harry asked hesitantly. "I'd love to learn more magic if you're willing to teach me."

"Definitely," Merlin said, grinning. "I've always wanted an apprentice."

"How about next Friday?" Harry suggested. "That's tomorrow afternoon for you, right?"

"Yeah, I think I can find some way to distract Arthur for a bit," Merlin said. "I'll see you then, Harry. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

They were both halfway out of their respective doors when Harry stopped and said, "And Merlin?"

Merlin turned around and looked at him.

"Thank you."

Merlin winked and the door swung shut softly behind him.

* * *

Arthur Pendragon prided himself on being more observant than most people. It was one of the key attributes that was supposed to distinguish a knight from the average citizen, after all. He liked to keep a close eye on everyone who he regularly came into contact with, because if he was to one day be king, he had to be able to detect spies in his midst, and to be able to predict an attack a moment before it happened. Being observant was a very important quality in a leader.

One didn't have to be observant, however, to notice that Merlin was definitely up to something.

Arthur had been noticing more and more often over the past few days that Merlin was failing to hide yawns behind his hands and he seemed even more clumsy and distracted than usual. Was something keeping his manservant up at night? Arthur would have suspected a girl was involved if he didn't know that Merlin had absolutely no social skills whatsoever.

Even more worrying than that was the fact that Merlin had been late bringing him lunch three times this week. Each time he had been just about to go look for the idiot when he'd come stumbling into Arthur's chambers, stammering his apologies and half-assed excuses. The cook had run out of chickens? Yeah right, Merlin.

So just what was he up to?

Finally, Arthur had had enough of asking himself that question and decided to find out once and for all. Right after Merlin left to get his lunch that day, Arthur quietly crept into the hallway with all of the considerable stealth that his warrior training had provided him and followed his manservant. Arthur felt dismayed but not at all surprised when Merlin passed by the kitchens without a moment's pause and kept walking through the castle's corridors.

Arthur had to crouch down low once Merlin got to the portion of the castle which had wide windows which were clearly visible from outside in order to not be seen following his own manservant. He felt distinctly ridiculous sneaking around when he was the damn _prince_ of this castle. If anyone should be able to walk proudly within its walls, he should. As soon as he found out what Merlin was up to, there would be hell to pay just for making him suffer this indignity.

Arthur was quite surprised when he saw Merlin take the long staircase down to the lower levels of the castle. Hardly anyone went down there, not even servants. Arthur couldn't prevent his boots from tapping softly against the stairs as he followed, but Merlin gave no indication of hearing the sound.

When Arthur reached the bottom of the stairs he saw the heel of Merlin's worn boot disappearing around a corner at the end of the long hallway and hurried to keep up. There was a huge stone door at the end of the second hallway, and Arthur crept silently forward and cracked the door open ever so slightly so that he could see inside. He could hear voices too, but he was too far away to hear what they were saying.

Merlin was talking to a young boy and gesturing animatedly while the boy nodded along eagerly. Arthur could see that they were sitting in chairs around a huge circular table. Merlin suddenly made a very strange gesture with his hand that almost made it look as if he were blowing a kiss at the younger boy. Then, the boy mimicked the gesture back at him. Arthur was completely at a loss to explain it. Were they speaking in a code of some kind? Had his manservant joined a cult?

Then, Arthur felt his blood freeze in his veins and could hear his heart pounding frantically in his chest. This could not be real. This must be a dream, or, or a hallucination. There was no way this was actually happening.

The young boy had brought his hand to his mouth again, but this time an apple had appeared in it, and Arthur could see clearly from this angle that the boy's eyes had glowed golden for moment. The boy offered the apple to Merlin proudly.

No, this must be a dream, because if it wasn't then Merlin, his idiotic, clumsy, unbelievably loyal manservant was consorting with sorcerers.

* * *

 _A/N: Is the cliffy evil? I can't tell, I think they're fun. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! If anyone notices any grammar/spelling mistakes, feel free to point them out because I haven't edited this chapter as much as usual._

 _As always, please review! Go ahead, make my day. No seriously, reviews really do make my day. :)_


	5. Merlin, You Got Some Splainin' To Do!

Merlin felt happier than he had in as long as he could remember. It was a beautiful summer day, the birds were singing, no magical creatures were attacking today, and Harry was excelling in his magic lessons. They had been meeting twice a day in Merlin's time for four days now and Harry had finally managed to create an apple today, after many hours of trying. Harry was frustrated because he couldn't seem to do any of the wandless magic Merlin had shown him once he left the room, but Merlin wasn't discouraged. Magic could be finicky like that sometimes, and Merlin was sure it was just a block he would get over soon.

Teaching Harry made Merlin feel free in a way that he hadn't been able to feel since he first came to Camelot. He had found in Harry a confidant and a friend, and Harry had begun to confide in him as well about his world and his own misgivings about the fame which had been forced upon him. He talked about how he felt trapped by his destiny and how he felt that people expected too much of him. Merlin could relate.

Also, Harry was the first person Merlin had met since coming to Camelot who thought magic was as amazing as he did. Gaius appreciated it for its usefulness, but he was anything but excited about Merlin using it for fun. Even knights practiced swordplay, so why couldn't he play around a bit with magic? There was no harm in it as long as no one found out, and since time didn't pass in the hexagonal room there was little chance of that happening.

Merlin hurried to the kitchen to get Arthur's lunch with a skip in his step. When he reached the kitchen he scooped the tray that was already laden with food for the prince off the counter in one hand. He had to duck on his way out to avoid the cook's wooden spoon.

"You're late again!" she yelled after him.

It did take him a few minutes to walk to the room and back, but Merlin didn't understand why everyone got so wound up about it. Surely the big prat could wait a few minutes for his lunch. Learning a little patience wouldn't kill him.

He rushed back to Arthur's chambers all the same and when he got there he went in without knocking, as usual. After he shut the door behind him he turned around and nearly dropped the tray.

Arthur was sitting facing the door in a chair by the table. His arms were crossed and he was staring at Merlin with the strangest expression on his face. Merlin crossed the room nervously and could feel Arthur's eyes following his every move as he set the tray down on the table. He moved away to allow Arthur space to eat, but Arthur didn't look at all interested in his food.

"Um, I'm sorry it's a bit late," Merlin said.

"Oh no, it's quite all right," Arthur said in a falsely casual voice that Merlin had never heard him use before. Now Merlin knew there was definitely something wrong. Arthur usually gave him shit for something as small as standing too close to him while he ate, not to mention how downright apoplectic he usually got when Merlin was late.

Merlin moved to stand in front of Arthur's chair and looked down at him worriedly. "Are you alright, Sire?"

"Oh, fine. Just fine."

"Right...okay," Merlin said. He really didn't like the way Arthur was looking at him. Had he ever stared at him like this before?

Arthur didn't seem to be about to say anything, so Merlin thought he had better just leave. "Is there anything you need, Sire?"

"I have no particular need of you, Merlin."

That was odd. Where was his usual list of two hundred chores to be completed by dinner?

"Right, well I'll just be off then."

Merlin made it ten steps to the door, feeling very relieved to be away from whatever was going on here, before Arthur said, "Oh Merlin?"

Merlin stopped and looked back around at him. "Yes, Arthur?"

"What did you do with the apple?"

"What apple?" Merlin said. "I don't think your lunch included an apple today."

"No, I mean the apple that the sorcerer beneath the castle gave you. What did you do with it?"

Merlin froze, his eyes wide and frightened. His blood turned to water from the Lake of Avalon in an instant. Oh no. No no no! _Shit_! How did Arthur know? Had he followed him? How much had he seen? _Shit shit shit._

"I'm waiting," Arthur said. His voice was light and conversational, but his eyes were full of contained fury. "If you ate it, you should know that it was probably poisoned. "

"Arthur, I can explain!" Merlin said. He wracked his brain for some kind of explanation for this but all of the adrenaline was stopping him from thinking clearly. His legs were shaking now and he suddenly felt very queasy. He had had far too many nightmares that started just like this and ended with him six feet under.

"Go on then, Merlin, explain to me why I shouldn't go to my father with this _right now_."

"I, well-"

"Explain to me why my own manservant has been consorting with sorcerers!" Arthur stood up and even though Merlin was a bit taller Arthur seemed to tower over him. Arthur's right hand was now hovering inches from where his sword was strapped to his belt. Surely he wouldn't? But one look at Arthur's face told Merlin that _oh yes he would_ if Merlin didn't explain _right now_.

"Please, listen to me! He's just a boy! He's not harming anybody! He just wanted a friend, is all," Merlin said, thinking fast. "He's just a Druid boy whose parents were killed. He's been living beneath the castle and I've been bringing him some food and water. He's just a boy, I couldn't leave him to die!" Merlin felt a flicker of surprise at his own cunning. That had sounded quite convincing. Not to mention familiar...

"Merlin, you complete idiot! He's not a boy, he's a _sorcerer_!" Suddenly, a very nasty look of suspicion came over Arthur's face. "Or are you helping him because you're one of them too?"

 _Yes! Yes, I am!_

"No, Arthur, of course not," Merlin said, voice trembling. He had a lump in his throat and his eyes stung. Don't you dare cry, he told himself. Now is not the time for tears.

"He's only eleven years old, Arthur," Merlin pleaded. "If you'd just met him, you would understand why I'm helping him. He's not evil! He never uses his magic for anything but good. He doesn't mean any harm towards you or this kingdom, I swear. He can't help that he was born with magic!" Merlin stopped abruptly, realizing that he was talking about himself now, not Harry. He looked away from Arthur, ashamed.

"Merlin," Arthur sighed. Merlin looked up and saw that some of the anger had left Arthur's eyes, leaving him looking weary and disappointed. "You really should know better. It doesn't matter how young or how seemingly innocent someone is. Magic corrupts them every time. Remember this, Merlin: the only good sorcerer is a dead sorcerer." Merlin could hear King Uther's voice echoing behind every word.

Merlin nodded and stared at the floor, throat aching. Heart aching. His hopes that one day Arthur might accept him shattered into tiny pieces on the ground. He knew without a doubt that he would remember that for the rest of his days. _The only good sorcerer is a dead sorcerer._

"I'm going to be lenient with you this time, Merlin, because I know your heart was in the right place and I don't really fancy seeing you dead."

Merlin looked up sharply, not quite believing his ears.

"I'm not going to tell my father and I would be very happy to never speak of this again," Arthur continued, "but if I ever catch you doing anything like this again, I'll put your head on the chopping block myself. Are we clear?"

"Perfectly," Merlin said, his voice breaking.

"Good," Arthur said, "now get out of my sight."

Merlin nodded and turned to go, eyes fixed on the floor.

"And Merlin?"

Merlin turned again to look at Arthur, who looked like nothing but the blurry outline of a knight to him now.

"The boy has got to go. If he isn't gone by tomorrow morning, I'll know, and you won't like what will happen then."

Merlin made it to the other side of the door before the first tears fell. He sank down onto the floor with his face in his hands. It felt to Merlin as if something had broken between him and Arthur, and Merlin wondered despairingly if he would ever be able to fix it.

* * *

If anyone asked Harry what his favorite class at Hogwarts was, he might have told them it was Charms, where he could chat with his friends while multicolored jets of light shot in all directions. Or he might have said it was Transfiguration, which was difficult and yet all the more satisfying for it when he finally managed to turn a match into a needle. Even Defense Against the Dark Arts had its merits if you could get past the teacher's stutter. At least the material Quirrell taught was interesting.

The truth, however, was that Magic With Merlin was quickly becoming the best class he'd ever been to. Where else could he learn to create an apple out of nothing but the magic from which, as Merlin said, everything came? More than just teaching him how to shoot light out of his wand or turn one useless object into another, Merlin was teaching him what magic actually _was_ , and it was more wondrous than he could have imagined. If only he could do the magic when he returned from that room. Maybe then he could prove to himself that this wasn't some elaborate dream. Unfortunately, any time Harry tried the spells when he was alone in his dormitory, a very definite _nothing_ happened. He had no idea what he was doing wrong.

Other than that, it all seemed too good to be true. More than just being his teacher, Harry felt like Merlin could actually _see_ Harry, something that in all of his ten years with the Dursleys he had been sorely lacking. Ron and Hermione were two of the best friends a wizard could ask for, and Harry really did appreciate them, but they didn't understand what it felt like to deal with all of the responsibility that came with fame even though he didn't have any choice about it. Not like Merlin did.

It was a Saturday night in late March and the weather had finally begun to take a turn for the better. The lawns grew tall and green and the first years no longer had to duck against the pounding rain when they made their way to Herbology.

The dungeons even seemed a few degrees warmer as Harry made his way down to the room which had become Merlin's classroom. Harry had gotten much better at navigating through the dungeons and hadn't gotten lost or run into Snape since the incident at the end of the winter holiday.

Harry couldn't wait to tell Merlin about his week, as had become their tradition. It was almost strange how quickly Harry had come to trust Merlin with the details of his life, especially since Merlin had only known him for less than a week. For Harry, it felt like he had known Merlin for years.

Harry had also brought a book which Hermione had found in the library which was supposedly an accurate account of Merlin's life. He was under strict instructions to not show Merlin anything beyond the first few chapters of it for fear of endangering the timeline, of course, but he was excited all the same.

Harry reached the long corridor at last and pushed the door open animatedly, throwing off his invisibility cloak as it swung shut behind him. Merlin was already there, sitting at the round table with his back to Harry.

"Merlin, you'll never believe what-" Harry stopped talking abruptly when Merlin turned to look at him. He looked more sad and tired than Harry had ever seen him. Harry knew that only twelve hours had passed for Merlin since they had last met, so what could have possibly happened in such a short time to cause those bags beneath Merlin's eyes?

What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"Harry, we need to talk," Merlin said. "Do you want to sit down?"

"Alright," Harry said. He sat down warily next to Merlin at the round table. A heavy silence passed between them as Merlin stared down at the table.

"Harry, we can't meet anymore, " Merlin said at last. It sounded as if each word was causing him pain.

"What? Why?" Harry said, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Arthur - he caught us," Merlin said bitterly. "He followed me and saw you doing magic."

"He doesn't know about your magic, does he?" Harry asked in alarm. Merlin had told him several times that if Arthur ever found out about his magic he would probably be executed.

"No, but Uther is a firm believer in guilt by association. As far as he's concerned, even being seen with a sorcerer is enough to put someone to death. I guess I should be glad that Arthur isn't turning me in." Merlin didn't sound glad at all.

"But if he isn't turning you in, why can't you go on meeting with me in secret?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Arthur knows about this room and I have a feeling he's going to check to make sure you're not here. I can't guarantee your safety if he ever finds you, and if I'm ever late bringing him his lunch again, there's a good chance he will," Merlin said. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

"It's fine," Harry said in a taut, strained voice that didn't sound much like his own.

"No, it's not. I want to go on being your teacher too, but I just don't want you to get hurt-"

"But I'll be fine!" Harry interrupted him. "If you can't come to meet me, I'll just come to find you in Gaius' chambers."

Merlin sighed softly. "I don't know if that would work, Harry, and I'm not willing to risk your life on the chance that Arthur might catch us. You have no idea how hard it is to be a sorcerer in Camelot. I'm sorry."

"I get it," Harry said gruffly. Something rotten had taken residence inside of him that was making it hard to forgive Merlin for this. Logically, he understood Merlin's reasons and knew that it wasn't really his fault. He couldn't help but feel, however, that no matter how many times people tried to protect him, he still ended up getting hurt.

"Well, um, good," Merlin said, sounding wrong-footed. "Would you still like to learn something tonight, since this might be the last time we can meet?"

Harry suddenly felt like he'd really rather be anywhere else but here, with Merlin looking at him with that sad, guilty expression, knowing that he might never see him again. "You know what, I think I'd rather just go. I'm pretty tired anyway."

"Oh. Alright," Merlin said. Now he was the one who sounded hurt.

Harry didn't look at Merlin as he picked his invisibility cloak back up and walked to the door.

"Wait, Harry!" Merlin called after him. Harry turned back around, still not looking Merlin in the eye. "I want you to know that I'm so glad to have met you, and I've really enjoyed having you as my apprentice."

Harry walked back over to the table and Merlin made an aborted gesture as if he thought Harry was going to hug him, but Harry just kept walking, stopping only to push open the door back to Camelot pointedly.

"Oh, right," Merlin said, sounding embarrassed. He stood up from the table and pushed the door to Hogwarts open too.

Harry crossed the room quickly, throwing on his invisibility cloak before he reached the door.

"Goodbye, Harry," Merlin said.

"Bye, Merlin," said Harry, but he said it so softly that he thought Merlin might not have heard him. He saw Merlin hang his head sadly just before the door closed behind him, and then the darkness of the hallway swallowed him up.

Harry hardly saw where he was going as he made his way back up to Gryffindor Tower, and it was thanks to the fact that he had made this journey so many times before that he didn't walk into any walls. Harry couldn't stop thinking about the unfairness of it all. Just when he had begun to think of Merlin as one of his best friends and he'd been learning so much, it was all taken away from him. Just like his parents were. Just like his chance at a happy childhood was. Just like everything Harry had had of his own had been taken away as soon as Dudley wanted it more. At Hogwarts, he had felt like he finally had something that couldn't be taken away from him. But now, one of the things he had liked most about Hogwarts was done for good.

The more Harry thought about it, the more he realized that it wasn't really Merlin who he was angry at. It was all of the people whose hatred had taken things away from him. Lord Voldemort. The Dursleys. Draco Malfoy. And now, it was Uther Pendragon. All of them had thought they were superior and because of it Harry had suffered. It wasn't fair that he and Merlin weren't safe to meet in Camelot just because they had magic. It wasn't fair that their friendship had to end or one of them might die.

Harry pulled off the invisibility cloak when he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and muttered, "Pig snout."

"Dear me, child!" she said. "Where did you come from?"

Harry was too upset to reply and he slipped past her into the common room without a word. Thankfully, it looked like everyone had already gone up to bed. The boys' dormitory echoed with snores when Harry tiptoed in quietly. Ron was muttering something about catching the Quaffle in his sleep. When Harry collapsed into his bed at last, he felt exhausted, but his mind was still racing too fast for him to fall asleep. His child's mind was hardly equipped to deal with the ideas it was creating.

Where had this conflict between magical and non-magical people come from in the first place? What created the hatred between the two groups? What made them each feel as if they were superior? The thought of it filled Harry with disgust. They were all human after all, weren't they?

As Harry drifted off to sleep, he made a resolution that he would never suffer because of their hatred ever again. He didn't spare any thought to how just yet, he just knew that he could not stand being a casualty in this war any longer. It was a war which had been going on for over a thousand years, and Harry was prepared to fight. He would fight for himself, for Merlin, for all of those who had suffered as he had suffered, growing up in a place where everything he was was hated. And with these thoughts, Harry fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

 _A/N: Holy angst, Batman! This chapter really should be called "Everything Goes to Shit". I'm honestly not sure why this turned out so angsty. Maybe Harry is starting his teenage years a bit early? There's a method to my madness, I swear! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! It's a bit shorter than usual and I'm not completely satisfied with how it turned out, but I couldn't leave you hanging after that cliffhanger for much longer. ;-) Also, if anyone noticed, I did sort of co-opt a certain historical quote to suit my own purposes. That was intentional._

 _I consider this the end to part 1 of this fanfic, and after this things will get pretty exciting. The stage is set! Let the games begin! You probably have no idea what I'm talking about. Hehehe..._

 _I'm not sure when I'll have the next chapter finished because I have three AP tests next week (*groan*) and probably won't have much time to write. But who knows, maybe I'll spend a lot of time procrastinating from studying by writing this._

 _Anyway, rock on my friends!_


	6. The Nightmare Ends Before It Begins

It was a stormy night in early October, and Camelot echoed with the sounds of thunder and fat raindrops slashing the city's stone walls. It was the third stormy night in a row this week, and the farmers and other commoners worried that the rain would destroy their precious crops. The denizens of Camelot's castle, however, had more pressing matters on their minds. One such person, a pale, lanky young servant, lay on a lumpy bed in the physician's chambers' extra room. His hands were folded under his head and his eyes were closed, but he was not asleep. His thoughts were heavy with self pity and anxiety as he listened to the storm raging on outside. Now, more than ever before, the young warlock in question wished that his magical powers included the ability to go back in time. But then again, maybe not. Everything he did seemed to make things worse no matter what he tried.

The previous four months had been some of the worst of Merlin's life. Not only had he no longer had Harry's visits to look forward, but things between him and Arthur hadn't returned to normal like Merlin had hoped. And on top of that, Merlin had still had to deal with magical attacks on a weekly basis.

At first, Merlin had taken Arthur's lack of hostility towards him as a sign of forgiveness, but as the weeks dragged on, Merlin had known that it still wasn't the same between them. Arthur still took him with on patrols and occasionally used him for target practice, and to all of the rest of Camelot it looked like nothing was different between them. The change lay in the subtle differences that only he and Arthur would notice.

Arthur treated Merlin as he would any other servant. There were no teasing insults, no impossible tasks to compete, no objects hurled at his head after a good row, no asking Merlin for his advice when things seemed bleak. A year ago Merlin would have been very happy to be treated with more respect, but now it left him feeling nothing but a hollow sense of loss and guilt. Before the incident, Arthur had pretended that Merlin was nothing more than his idiotic servant. Now, Merlin really was just his idiotic servant. The change left Merlin completely miserable. Merlin had even tried to get Arthur to talk about what had happened on several occasions, but Arthur was very adept at changing the subject when it suited him.

Merlin hadn't told Gaius what had happened with Harry, even after he had noticed that something was bothering his ward. Merlin could picture the look of disappointment on his face perfectly well without actually seeing it. He could hear Gaius' words in his head clearly enough without hearing them out loud too. _How many times have I told you, foolish boy! Your magic is not a toy! The fate of all of Camelot is at risk if you get caught! What were you thinking?_

It was hard enough being Camelot's secret protector without Arthur's unspoken mistrust standing in the way. When Arthur sacked him in favor of the thief Cedric, Merlin had thought that that was the end of his destiny and if not for the evil sorcerer he still had to defeat, he might have packed up and gone back to Ealdor. After he defeated Cornelius Sigan, Arthur did take Merlin back as his servant, to Merlin's immense shock. It did take him several days, however, and when he finally gave Merlin his job back he made it very clear that it was only because the servant he had been given annoyed him even more than Merlin did. Merlin suspected that the reason might have had more to do with making him do more penance for his deception, as he remained just as painfully cold and impersonal towards him. If this was how Arthur treated him after he was merely seen with a sorcerer, Merlin shuddered to think of what Arthur might do if he found out that Merlin actually _was_ one.

A few weeks later, when Arthur decided to compete in Camelot's jousting tournament anonymously, he didn't even tell Merlin what he was doing. He told Merlin exactly what he told his father, that he was going to fight a beast and that it would be too dangerous for Merlin to accompany him. Merlin saw through that immediately of course, and he still helped Arthur to defeat the assassin from the shadows after he found out what was going on. Arthur's lack of trust in him stung him deeply, however. Had he forgotten all that they had been through together in the last year? Did this one incident really invalidate all of the loyalty which Merlin had shown him before?

As he lay there, sleepless and brooding, Merlin wondered if all of that was enough to justify what he had done the night before. At the time, it had seemed like the only thing he could do after feeling so useless for so long. There was no way he could have foreseen the terrible consequences which would follow his decision. So now, Merlin wished he could go back in time but wondered, even if he could, if he would really make any other choice.

 _24 hours earlier…_

A sprig of crushed thyme. A cup of water collected during the full moon. Two snail shells. A pinch of ground goat bladder. Mix together and stir clockwise three times. Heat until boiling, stirring occasionally.

Merlin's hands moved automatically to prepare the familiar potion, a favorite of Gaius' for treating boils, while his mind spun off into a galaxy far far away.

 _Morgana knows she has magic_. It was a bittersweet revelation for Merlin. On the one hand, he was happy that there was someone like him in Camelot. Maybe now he wouldn't have to feel so alone. On the other hand, he knew exactly what it felt like to find out that you have a power that you didn't choose and couldn't control, how lost that made you feel. Many times as a child he had awoken from nightmares to find the furniture in his room smashed up. He had never started a fire during a thunderstorm as Morgana had, but he had once thrown his mother across the room after she scolded him. It was a horrible feeling, having so much power and no control over it.

Merlin took the potion off of the burner and put it aside for Gaius to find when he got back from his meeting with Uther. He began to clean up absentmindedly, clearing the plates from the dinner he and Gaius had just finished. Dinner had been more tense than usual this evening, as he and Gaius continued to disagree about what Morgana really needed right now.

Gaius just didn't seem to understand. If he did, he would stop giving Morgana useless potions and actually _help_ her. She needed someone to show her that magic was nothing to be afraid of. Merlin understood why Gaius had forbade him from revealing his magic to her. It was just too risky for anyone else to know right now, especially with Arthur so suspicious about his loyalty. He couldn't help but wonder though, if he didn't help her, who would?

Suddenly, as if Merlin's thoughts had summoned her, Morgana burst through the door in her nightgown, looking extremely distressed. Merlin jumped and looked up from the candle he had just blown out in alarm.

"Is Gaius here?" she asked hurriedly.

"Er, no he's not here at the moment. He should be back soon though." Merlin wondered if something else had happened to make her this frantic. Privately, he thought Gaius probably wouldn't be able to help even if he were there, but he didn't tell her that.

"I need to speak to him. Where is he?"

"He's gone to see the king. What's wrong?" Morgana hesitated, her green eyes wide and scared. "You can trust me, Morgana. You know you can," Merlin assured her.

"I'm scared, Merlin," she said in a pleading whisper. "I don't understand anything anymore. I need to know what's happening. Please."

Merlin's heart gave a painful lurch as he fought not to tell her what she so desperately needed to hear. "Gaius will be back soon. He'll be able to help you."

"He won't. I don't need any more remedies. They won't do any good," Morgana said, stepping forward defiantly. They locked eyes and Merlin could see that she was struggling to say what she had come here to say. He wished he could make it easier for her. Morgana took a shaky breath. "It's magic, Merlin."

"What?" he said, feigning shock but actually feeling a bit panicked. Now he was backed into a corner for sure. What was he supposed to say to that?

"I'm your friend, you know I wouldn't make this up."

"Of course," Merlin said. Of course they were friends, and that's why he needed to _do something_.

"Then you believe me? You think it's magic too. Please, Merlin, I just need to hear someone say it so I don't have to keep feeling like I'm imagining it." Her voice rose to a shrill whisper by the end and her eyes were piercing as they held his in place.

She was standing so close and her perfume, which smelled like rosemary, drifted up to him, making his thoughts spin in circles. Different voices warred inside his head. One that was clearly Gaius' reminded him that if he got involved it would only make things worse. Harry's youthful voice asked him why he wouldn't do for Morgana what he had done for him. Kilgharrah growled that she was a witch and that her destiny was tainted with evil no matter which path she took. Then a new voice cut in, one that was wise and sounded like autumn leaves skating across the ground. "The path to evil is paved with ignorance," the voice said.

Merlin focused again on Morgana's face, which was open and unguarded in a way he had rarely seen it. She looked so scared, so distraught. Merlin had no great gift for foresight, but suddenly he saw and understood that the only way his kind-hearted friend would ever become evil was if she was left alone with her fear and ignorance of her own powers. He had seen before how magic could twist the minds and hearts of sorcerers when they didn't understand its true purpose. It would be too dangerous for Merlin to be the one to show her all of the good that magic could do, but the wise voice had another suggestion. "But that's preposterous!" Gaius' voice argued. But Merlin had felt disregarded and powerless too often lately to listen to it. He had put up with the Pendragons' fear of magic for long enough. He had to do the right thing.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Morgana demanded when Merlin had been silent for too long.

"I believe you, Morgana," Merlin said. "It must be magic."

Morgana's lips quirked up in a grin as she let out a disbelieving laugh. Then, she took a small step back and the smile melted off her face. "Thank you for saying so, Merlin, but you don't know anything about magic, do you? You can't help me," she said bitterly.

"Maybe not," Merlin said, swallowing his protests, "but I know some people who can."

"Really?" she said dubiously. "Who?"

Merlin sighed and looked away from her, running his fingers through his hair. "First, will you promise to hear me out, even if you don't believe what I'm saying at first?"

"Alright," she said skeptically, and he wondered if she realized how much like Arthur she sometimes sounded.

"A few months ago, I found a school within the kingdom," Merlin began apprehensively. "A school of magic."

Morgana snorted, and suddenly the mask slid back onto her face. "Have you been in the tavern, Merlin?"

"It's called Hogwarts," Merlin continued, "and it exists over a thousand years in the future."

Morgana just stared at him for a moment. "Are you mocking me?"

"No, of course not! It's a real place, I swear! I've been there."

"But, Uther, he - how?" she said.

"I don't know," said Merlin. "There's a room inside the castle that leads straight to Hogwarts. It's some kind of magic."

"You swear you're not lying to me?"

"Of course! I wouldn't lie about this, Morgana. You know me well enough to know that."

"Alright," she said hesitantly. "I believe you. It's just a bit unbelievable is all." A look of dawning comprehension overtook her alabaster features. "And you think they would take me in? Teach me?"

"I'm not sure," Merlin said honestly, "but it's worth a try isn't it?"

Morgana was quiet for a moment as she looked at the floor before meeting Merlin's eyes once again. Merlin could see both fear and determination in her eyes. "Honestly, I don't think I have any other choice. I can't go on feeling this way any longer. Like I'm cursed. If you think this school can help me then I've got to try."

"Alright," Merlin said, smiling widely. It felt so much better to finally be doing something to help. "When do you want to leave?"

"I see no point in delaying. But what about the king? When he sees that I'm gone he'll send the knights after me."

"You let me worry about the king," Merlin said.

Morgana smiled at him warmly. She brushed her hand against his shoulder, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "You're a good friend, Merlin."

Merlin smiled bashfully and nodded. "I'll show you the way," he said. "It's not far."

"I need to change first," she said, gesturing to her nightgown pointedly.

"Er, right," Merlin said, rubbing his neck awkwardly. "I'll meet you outside of your room in a few minutes then."

Ten minutes later Merlin stood in front of the large oak doors to Morgana's room. She emerged wearing a red dress and the matching red cape she wore when traveling. Merlin thought of Harry and Ron's black robes and thought that Morgana might find it hard to adjust to Hogwarts' fashion, but that was the least of her worries.

Merlin took her hand and led her out into the dark castle hallways. A crack of thunder rang through the castle and Morgana flinched, hard. Merlin squeezed her hand reassuringly and they continued down the long staircase to the lower levels of the castle. When they reached the stone doorway to the hexagonal room, Merlin pushed the door open and held it open for Morgana, who lingered in the doorway.

"I can't continue past this point because the door only goes one way." _Sort of_ , Merlin amended silently.

"But what should I do once I'm on the other side?" Morgana asked nervously.

"Go through both doors and then continue down the hallway and take a right. Keep going until you find a portrait and then ask it how to get to Dumbledore's office. He's the wizard who runs the school."

"Ask a portrait? What do you mean?"

"The paintings in Hogwarts speak," Merlin explained.

"Are you sure about this, Merlin?" Morgana asked, looking afraid.

"Do you trust me, Morgana?"

She paused for a moment and looked into Merlin's eyes. "Yes. I believe I do."

"I wish I could go with you, but Arthur can't catch me down here again."

"Is that why he's been acting so strangely towards you lately?" she asked curiously.

"Yeah," Merlin said, surprised. "You've noticed?"

"Of course. It's been obvious," said Morgana. Merlin was glad to hear that she had noticed his troubles with Arthur. It made him feel much less invisible than he had for the last four months.

Morgana was still stalling in the doorway, eyeing the magical room apprehensively. "Will you be alright?" Merlin asked.

Morgana seemed to snap out of a daze and straightened her posture defiantly. "I'm a big girl, Merlin, I'll be fine. I can take care of myself."

"I know," Merlin said quietly. "Good luck."

"Thank you," she whispered. "For everything." And she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. The door swung shut behind her.

Merlin stood perfectly still for half a minute. "You're welcome," he whispered to the empty air.

* * *

The next morning, Merlin awoke to the sound of the warning bells chiming, and knew that they had noticed Morgana was missing. He groaned and fell back into bed, rubbing his eyes. He had told Morgana that he would deal with Uther, but he didn't actually know what he could say. Uther would probably think he had kidnapped her or something no matter what he said.

A few seconds later, Merlin heard the door to Gaius' chambers slam shut and then his bedroom door burst open and Gaius appeared in the doorway, looking upset.

"Merlin, please tell me you didn't have anything to do with this," Gaius said.

"To do with what?" Merlin said innocently, trying to look confused.

"The Lady Morgana has disappeared," Gaius said wearily, "and Uther is baying for blood."

"I had nothing to do with it, I swear!" said Merlin.

Gaius sighed. "Merlin, you have many rare gifts, but lying is not one of them. Where is she?"

"I can't tell you, Gaius, but I promise she's safe there. I had to help her! Please tell me you understand," Merlin pleaded.

Gaius sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose in a very Snape-like manner. "We'll talk about this more later, Merlin. Right now we're needed in the council chambers. The king has called an emergency meeting and I think you should be there," Gaius said sternly.

Ten minutes later Gaius and Merlin joined the growing crowd gathered along the walls of the council chamber. The people who had already arrived were muttering quietly amongst themselves while the king paced back and forth in front of the thrones stormily. The crowd gave him a very wide berth, pressing themselves back against the doors.

Gaius and Merlin stood in silence, and Merlin tried not to make eye contact with anyone. Suddenly, the doors were thrown open widely and Arthur and several knights strode in.

"There's no sign of her, Father," Arthur said when he reached the king's side. "The knights searched the entire border and didn't find a trail."

"How can that be?" Uther demanded.

"She must still be somewhere in Camelot," Arthur replied.

Usher looked murderous. "There is a dangerous sorcerer who has kidnapped my ward and they are hiding right under our noses. I am certain this is the same sorcerer who set fire to Morgana's room. This person must be found, and when they are, they will pay."

"Of course, Father," Arthur said, raising his hands placatingly.. "We all want Morgana to be found and my knights and I will do everything in our power to-"

"No," the king cut him off, "Your knights have proved ineffective at rooting out magic users in the past and Morgana's safety is too important to risk on their incompetence." Arthur opened his mouth to protest but Uther cut him off with a stern glare. "I was afraid it might come to this," he said, turning to address the crowd, "and that is why I have called you all here today. More extensive measures are needed to catch the Lady Morgana's kidnapper, and that is why I have contacted an old friend of mine. He specializes in seeking out magic users wherever they may be found."

Gaius tensed up beside Merlin. "What is it?" Merlin asked under his breath. Gaius just shook his head mutely, looking pale.

"He is known as the Witchfinder," Uther continued. Several courtiers gasped. Merlin glanced around at them in confusion. "He will be arriving tomorrow, and that is when the hunt will begin." He surveyed the crowd imperiously and spoke in a clear, commanding tone. Merlin's legs began to tremble slightly when he realized what this might mean for him. "I implore each and every one of you to come forward if you have any information about potential magic users in Camelot. If the Witchfinder discovers that you are hiding anything, you will pay for it with your lives. That is all." Uther turned and sat back down in his throne, where one of his advisors began to speak to him in hushed tones.

There was a moment of chaos as everyone began to push each other in their haste to get out. Merlin stared numbly at the floor. He did not like the sound of this Witchfinder. Not at all. What if he discovered that Merlin had been involved in Morgana's disappearance? _Or worse._

When most of the courtiers had filed into the hallway, Arthur bowed to his father and turned to leave with everyone else. Merlin noticed that his hands were balled into fists at his side and he supposed that Arthur was still angry over his father's lack of confidence in his knights.

When Arthur passed where Gaius and Merlin were still standing, he made eye contact with Merlin for what felt like the first time in months. The look he gave Merlin was very peculiar. Merlin thought he might have been...concerned for him? What was that about? Merlin wondered with some degree of paranoia if Arthur might tell the Witchfinder that he had once found his manservant to be consorting with sorcerers. If he did that, Merlin was completely screwed. But was there a chance that Arthur was actually concerned for his safety if the Witchfinder found out about Harry? It seemed out of character considering how Arthur had been treating him for these past few months, but Merlin held on to hope that maybe he did still care what happened to him. Arthur was gone before Merlin had a chance to say anything.

Gaius gave him a small push in the back and a significant look and Merlin realized that they were the last people in the council chambers except for Uther and his adviser. They left quickly after that. Neither wanted to be alone with Uther right now.

The warm, righteous feeling which Merlin had felt since he had helped Morgana was dissipating rapidly. If this Witchfinder was really as good as Uther seemed to think then he was in a world of trouble. And on top of that, Merlin didn't even know what Morgana had been met with at Hogwarts. It was possible they wouldn't even let her stay there. Pessimism was gathering around Merlin like dark storm clouds as he and Gaius reached the physician's chambers.

Gaius just looked at Merlin's face for a moment once they were standing by the kitchen table. "I was going to lecture you some more once we got back, but judging from your face I'd say that's the last thing you need."

Merlin nodded and sighed. "Gaius, I've really messed up this time, haven't I?"

"Only time will tell, my boy. But Aredian is certainly a force to reckoned with."

"Aredian?"

"The Witchfinder," Gaius explained. "He was a close ally to Uther during the Great Purge. I had hoped to never see him again."

"But why are you so afraid of him?" Merlin asked. "I haven't seen any 'witches' in Camelot. Well, except for that old bat who sells jewelry at the market. She seems like the type to ride around cackling on a broomstick."

Gaius didn't look amused. "This is no time for jokes, Merlin. I'd really rather you never had to find out why Aredian frightens me. Suffice it to say that his presence could be very dangerous for you if you aren't careful."

"That's no problem. I can be careful."

Gaius raised an eyebrow at him. "That remains to be seen."

"I can do it," Merlin assured him confidently. "Just tell me what I need to do."

"You must hide your magic book. He will no doubt be searching every room in Camelot for magical artifacts," said Gaius. Merlin nodded. "And you must promise me that you will answer any question put to you as would any other servant. You hardly know the Lady Morgana and you certainly aren't friends with her or Arthur."

"Alright," Merlin grumbled. He had a lot of practice at pretending to be something he wasn't anyway. One more lie shouldn't be too hard.

"Speaking of Arthur, aren't you supposed to be bringing him his breakfast by now?"

"Oh no!" Merlin said. He had completely forgotten about the prince in his panic. He grabbed his jacket and dashed out of the room. He heard Gaius chuckle behind him.

Merlin brought Arthur's breakfast to his room as quickly as he could, and stood watching him nervously as he waited for the axe to fall. Literally. The last time he had been late bringing Arthur one of his meals he had threatened to put his head on the chopping block.

But Arthur just accepted his breakfast silently and began to pick at it distractedly. He looked preoccupied about something and Merlin could only guess at what it was. He didn't feel comfortable enough around Arthur anymore to ask him what was bothering him.

When Arthur finished his breakfast he still didn't speak to Merlin. This wasn't unusual for him. The only reason he ever talked to Merlin anymore was to give him his chores.

Then, Arthur surprised both of them by saying, "Merlin, I'm not going to tell Aredian what you were doing in that room downstairs."

"Th-thank you, Sire," Merlin said. It was the first time Arthur had brought up the incident since it had happened four months ago.

"I don't know what happened to Morgana and I'll admit I'm worried about her, but only a fool would think _you_ had anything to do with it."

Merlin gulped. "I'm glad you feel that way."

"I'd like to be able to trust you again," Arthur continued heavily, "but I get the feeling you're hiding something from me. So until you tell me what it is I don't think I can rely on you like I used to, but I still don't want to see you dead. I think I owe you that much. You did save my life once." _More like 50 times,_ Merlin added silently.

"H-hiding something? Me? I'm not hiding anything. What makes you think that?" Merlin said. Where had this come from? It seemed like Arthur had become observant while Merlin wasn't looking. This newfound suspicion came completely out of the blue.

"Don't even try to lie, Merlin, you're bloody awful at it," Arthur said with a smile. His voice was almost gentle as he said, "I will find out eventually you know. It would be much easier if you just told me what it is right now."

Merlin didn't say anything and stared resolutely at the ground instead.

Arthur sighed. "Very well, Merlin, you can go. Be sure to polish my armor before I train my knights this afternoon."

Merlin nodded and turned to go. "And Merlin?" Arthur said. "You should really work on your lying if you're planning to survive through the Witchfinder's visit."

Merlin blushed and hurried out of the room.

Merlin was relieved that Arthur was speaking to him again, but somehow he seemed to be on the brink of discovering Merlin's secret. Merlin wasn't sure why Arthur suddenly knew he was hiding something after all this time, but now he was onto Merlin like a bloodhound. Merlin thought he had better be even more careful around Arthur once Aredian arrived. Now would be the absolute worst time for Arthur to discover he had magic.

Arthur's final bit of advice filled Merlin with a dread that he couldn't shake for the rest of the day. He had always been terrible at lying, even as a child. He had never been able to keep anything from his mother for long. She had told him it was a good thing that he wasn't a good liar, but now Merlin thought that it would make his life a lot easier if he was.

The night came on black and stormy as Merlin agonized about Aredian's visit in his bed that night. He was the only one in Camelot who was awake to hear the sound of a horse's hooves getting nearer on the stone street below through the booming thunder early in the morning. To Merlin, it sounded like the executioner sharpening his axe.

Clack. Clack. _Shiiing._

* * *

 _A/N: Bet you weren't expecting that, hmm? I hope it was the good kind of surprise. Like finding out a due date has been extended, or that you can fit into your favorite pair of jeans from years ago. Not like discovering that Netflix has gotten rid of one of your favorite shows (Damn it, Netflix). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!_

 _So, I'm playing with the idea of making this fic slightly Mergana, but I could pretty easily keep it friendship too, because all there is now is some subtext. I'd be interested in hearing opinions, if you care either way. It would be secondary to the plot for sure if I went that way. Just a hint more than friendship, maybe a kiss for good luck. ;)_

 _Thanks for reading! If you feel like it, leave a review and let me know what you thought of the chapter! Reviews are like fresh satsumas on Christmas morning._


	7. Wicked Witch of the Chocolate Frog Card

Chapter 7: The Wicked Witch of the Chocolate Frog Card

The door out of the hexagonal room slammed shut behind Morgana and it wouldn't budge when she tried to push it back open. No going back now. She hugged her cape closer to her as she emerged into a long, dark hallway. _God_ , it was freezing. If this just led to an old broom cupboard or something, she was going to kill Merlin.

The strange distorted echo of her heels clicking against the stone floor made Morgana feel like someone was following her. She glanced around but she could only see a few feet in any direction in the dim torchlight.

This certainly didn't look like a school for magic. The place had a gloomy, derelict feeling about it. The stone walls were dirty and cold and there was an unidentifiable musty smell in the air. She took a right at the end of the hallway as Merlin had instructed her…and found herself in yet another hallway. And there weren't any "talking portraits" on the walls as far as she could see. At the end of this hallway she went left on a whim and to her complete surprise she found herself in…another hallway. This hallway led to a winding staircase, which led to another dark, empty hallway. It was like one of her all too frequent nightmares. She was doomed to be trapped in a maze of never ending hallways until she died. She wished she were back in her bed with its silky sheets, Gwen sweetly wishing her good night. Then she remembered the candle, and the broken window, and the shattered vase. She had to get herself under control. If there was even a chance that Merlin was right about this, she had to keep going. She owed that much to herself and to him for risking his own safety to help her. She was no fool, she knew what Uther would do to Merlin if he ever found out about this. She shivered at the thought and said a silent prayer that Merlin would be alright.

Hallway after hallway passed by as Morgana's feet grew steadily sorer in her fashionable yet impractical heels. Finally, she took a left turn and stopped dead when she found herself face to face with a strange portrait. It was of a woman with frizzy orange hair who was wearing a dress covered with black cats and owls. Morgana eyed the portrait warily as she approached but the woman didn't seem to be doing anything. It looked like a perfectly ordinary, perfectly uncommunicative portrait. Feeling extremely foolish Morgana leaned in close to it and whispered, "Hello?"

The woman's face stayed frozen in a benign smile and she said nothing. Of course she didn't, she was a painting. Morgana sighed in both disappointment and relief. She must be going mad to be talking to a painting. She turned away and looked around her in the dark corridor. Was that-? Yes, there looked to be a door just ahead of her. Maybe if she could-

"Boo!"

Morgana nearly jumped out of her skin. She whirled around and her mouth fell open in shock and terror when she saw that the portrait was no longer still. It was giggling. Loudly. The woman clutched at her stomach in mirth. "Ah, I'm sorry dear," the woman said when she finally stopped laughing. "You looked so nervous, I just couldn't help myself."

"You can talk!" Morgana shrieked. "But that's impossible. How?"

"Magic, of course," she said with a tinkling laugh. "How else?"

Morgana felt even more icy fear shooting through her veins. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. She ought to get out of there and back to Camelot before something bad happened. She had been taught since the age of ten that magic only ever led to evil after all. She couldn't recall ever hearing of someone being killed by a painting, but if a painting could talk, who knew what else it could do?

Morgana began to back away slowly. The woman in the painting put her hands on her hips and looked at Morgana sternly. "Oh come on, Morgana. Be brave! Be adventurous! Maybe you'll even learn something!"

Morgana froze in place. "How do you know my name?"

"Oh, I know many things. For example, did you know that all vampires are allergic to kneazle fur? Food for thought."

"I don't have time for this," Morgana said, growing impatient. The sooner she got away from this mad painting and the tangled mess of hallways in every direction, the better. Maybe she could even find her way back up to her room before morning came. She ignored the niggling voice in the back of her head which told her that there was no way she was still in Camelot. She had thought nothing made sense before. Now, she was even more lost, in more ways than one.

"I'm sorry, my dear girl. It's just that I don't get visitors too often, you see," the portrait said. "Now, you spoke to me for a reason, did you not?"

"Yes, I - I need your help," Morgana said, remembering why she had been trying to talk to a portrait in the first place. "I've been sent to see someone. I think his name was, um, Rumbleroar?"

The woman in the painting laughed again. "Well, I'm afraid you're on the wrong planet, dear. If you're looking for him I suggest you hop on a spaceship and head to Mars!"

"Fine, if you won't help me I'll find the way myself," Morgana said angrily. She was too tired and frightened to deal with this nonsense right now.

"Wait! Is it possible you're looking for Professor Dumbledore? He's the headmaster of this school."

"Yes!" Morgana said, feeling relieved. She thought that sounded more like what Merlin had said. "Can you tell me how to find him?"

"Of course," the woman said. She rattled off a long list of directions such as "go up the second staircase on the left but be sure to skip the fourth step" and "say 'fizzing whizbee' when you get to the ugly gargoyle" in one breath, which Morgana tried her best to remember.

"Thank you," Morgana said a bit begrudgingly when the portrait had finished.

"You're very welcome! Good luck, Morgana!" the woman said in her kind, overly enthusiastic voice. When Morgana was already halfway down the hallway she thought she heard the portrait yell, "And remember: take chances, make mistakes, and get messy!"

Morgana was not at all sure she was going the way the portrait had told her. There were many more strange portraits on the walls whose occupants whispered to each other behind their hands and pointed at her as she passed. At one point she walked by a door from which she could hear strange hissing, popping sounds and what sounded like people whispering. She hurried by as quickly and quietly as she could. She still hadn't seen another living person since she had said goodbye to Merlin. After she had been walking for about half an hour, Morgana saw a circle of bright daylight spilling into the hallway from around the corner. She began to race towards it as fast as her heels would allow her, but stopped when she heard voices. She crouched down by the wall to listen.

"-but Firenze actually isn't a bad teacher, for being a last minute replacement and all," a boy's voice was saying.

"Hmmph," replied a girl's slightly haughty voice.

"Aw, come on, Hermione! How can you judge him when you haven't even been in one of his classes?" said another boy.

"Well, it's not like he's really that different from Trelawney, is it? It sounds like he's just teaching more of the same rubbish about 'the sight' but everyone likes him because he's handsome and mysterious. You should hear the things Lavender and Pavarti say about him in the girls' bathroom. It's just ridiculous."

"And of course you would never like a teacher just based on looks," said the first boy.

"Of course not," the girl said.

The second boy faked a cough and said something under his breath that Morgana didn't quite catch.

"So, has Umbridge inspected his lessons yet?" the girl said loudly. She was obviously keen to change the subject.

"Not that I've seen. She probably doesn't want to get grass stains on her skirt," said the boy who had just coughed.

"More like she doesn't want to get that close to a dangerous half-breed," said the other boy quietly.

"You may very well be right," the girl said, a frown evident in her voice.

"What's up, Hermione?"

"Oh, I'm just worried about Hagrid, is all. I really hope the old toad's forgotten about him. He doesn't seem well enough to defend himself against her right now. Have you two noticed that he always seems to have fresh cuts and bruises?"

"Yeah, I have," said one of the boys, sounding concerned. "And he won't tell me how he's getting them."

"I wonder what he's hiding," said the other boy.

Morgana wasn't sure what they were talking about, but it did sound like this might be a school. A school for children, by the sounds of it. But should she talk to them? Even if they were children, it might be dangerous for her to approach a group of potential sorcerers unannounced.

There was a few seconds of pensive silence and then the girl gasped softly. "We're going to be late for Potions!"

"Blimey, you're right!"

Morgana heard rapid footsteps coming in her direction. She turned around frantically to look for a place to hide, and ran right into, and then through, a pale white, floating spectre. She screamed so loudly that she could hear her voice echoing all the way down the hallway for several seconds after she finally stopped.

"Pardon me, my lady!" said a startled yet courteous voice. "Are you alright?"

Morgana looked up at the ghost who had just spoken to her and gaped at him in horror. He was wearing a tall, plumed hat, fine robes, and he had what looked like a very ugly, very deep scar going almost all the way around his neck. He radiated a cold which seemed to sink into her bones. She pressed herself against the wall and sank to the ground to try to get away from him. "I-I'm f-fine," she stammered unconvincingly. She hugged her knees tightly to her chest.

"Who's there?" said a black-haired teenager wearing black robes and glasses as he rounded the corner at a run, brandishing a stick in front of him. A girl with bushy brown hair and a boy with bright red hair and freckles followed closely behind him.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," said the ghost politely. "I'm afraid I may have given this woman a bit of a fright. I think she may be in need of a pepper-up potion if one of you would be willing to escort her to Madame Pomfrey."

"I can show her the way," said the black-haired boy. He held a hand out for Morgana, who took it gratefully and staggered to her feet.

"But Harry, what about Potions?" the girl with bushy hair said.

"Don't worry about it, mate," said the red-haired boy. "We'll cover for you with Snape."

"Thanks, Ron," said the boy who must have been called Harry. "You two had better hurry if you don't want to be late."

"See you later," said Ron. He and the girl with the bushy hair rushed off in the direction Morgana had come from.

"I am so sorry if I frightened you, my lady," said the ghost. "Please forgive me." He gave a deep bow, and Morgana drew in a sharp breath as the ghost's head nearly tipped off his neck as he did so. He straightened up as if nothing had happened and glided away serenely.

"Sorry about him," Harry said once the ghost was out of earshot. "That's Sir Nicholas, but everyone just calls him Nearly Headless Nick."

"Was he really a, a ghost?" Morgana asked, her voice trembling. She still couldn't quite believe her eyes. She had always thought that ghosts were just make-believe. Something that women warned their children about when they wanted them to behave.

"Er, yes," Harry said slowly, looking at her bemusedly. "Here, I'll show you to the hospital wing. You'll feel better once you see Madame Pomfrey."

"No!" Morgana said loudly. Harry raised his eyebrows at her. "I mean, I feel fine. Would you mind showing me the way to see Dumbledore instead? I've been looking for him but I think I'm lost."

"Oh. Alright," Harry said. For some reason he frowned slightly when she mentioned Dumbledore's name. "Why do you want to see him?"

"A friend told me he could help me," Morgana said. She just wished Merlin had warned her about the ghosts.

Harry guided her up a flight of stairs and then another. Portraits continued to look at Morgana and whisper behind their hands. Soon, more students in long black robes began to pass by them. She noticed that a fair number of them stared at them curiously as they walked by, and she wondered if it was her or Harry who was attracting so much attention.

They walked through a corridor with windows on one side, and Morgana walked to one of these and looked out. She gasped as she beheld the beautiful campus below her. It was Camelot, but it wasn't. Having spent the last ten years of her life staring out of her bedroom window onto Camelot she would recognize the rolling hills beyond the city, the thick forest in the distance, and the grand stone towers on either side anywhere. This place had the same features, but other than that it was completely different. Green lawns and a lake replaced the lower town, and the forest looked dark and sinister, nothing like Camelot's bright woods, full of birdsong. Strange hoops and stands rose up in the distance. It was like a garden years after the gardener moved away or a familiar pair of eyes on a face which had become unfamiliar with age. Suddenly, something Merlin had said hit home for the first time. " _It exists over a thousand years in the future."_

Morgana was so entranced by the strange yet familiar landscape that she didn't hear Harry walk up behind her. "Er, are you alright?" said Harry.

Morgana jumped and turned away from the window. "Yes, of course," she said. "It's just, well, this place almost reminds me of my home."

"Where are you from?"

"A place called Camelot. I-I'm not really sure how I got here to be honest."

Harry's eyes went wide and he stared at her with a very peculiar expression on his face. "Did you come through a room near the dungeons?"

"Yes! How did you know?" Morgana said.

"Did _Merlin_ send you?" Harry asked in a whisper, his green eyes narrowed.

"You know Merlin?" she said, shocked. What were the chances that she would run into someone who knew her friend? Unless Merlin had spent more time here than she had thought.

"I knew him once," Harry said in a dull voice, "but that was a long time ago. Who are you?"

"My name is Morgana. I'm Uther Pendragon's ward."

Harry looked even more shocked. "But aren't you and Merlin supposed to be enemies?"

"What? Enemies?" Morgana said with a small laugh. The idea was ridiculous. "Did Merlin tell you that?"

"Er, no," Harry said. He was looking up at her with awe and a trace of sadness. "Look, there are some things you should know. Dumbledore will - well, he might be able to help you. His office is at the end of this hallway." Harry pointed to an ugly stone gargoyle which sat inside a handsome stone archway.

"Thank you," Morgana said, but Harry was already hurrying away from her at a jog and in a moment he had vanished around the corner. Morgana stared after him in confusion, and then shook her head and started walking towards the gargoyle through the patches of dappled sunlight which the long line of windows cast on the floor.

When she got to the gargoyle, she looked up into its beaked stone face helplessly for a moment, at a loss for what to do next. Then, she remembered the very last item on the strange portrait's long list of directions.

"Fizzing whizbee," she said, praying that it would work.

To her astonishment, the gargoyle leapt aside and a staircase began to revolve upward behind it with a great scraping sound of stone against stone. She glanced upward but couldn't see where the staircase led. She took a deep breath and stepped onto the stone steps. In a moment she found herself in front of a large wooden door inside of another stone archway. She could hear two voices coming from the other side and it sounded like they were arguing.

She could hear a shrill, enraged voice say, "He's not even _human_ , Dumbledore! Therefore he cannot possibly constitute a _suitable replacement_!"

"Really?" replied a calm, patient voice. "I was not aware that any ministry decrees had been made to that effect."

"I will not accept this blatant disregard for my authority!" the shrill voice shouted. " _And neither will Cornelius._ "

Morgana felt uncomfortable eavesdropping any longer, so she hastened to knock on the door. A second later the calm voice called, "Come in!"

Morgana pushed open the stone door and took a few steps into a brightly lit office. Upon seeing what his office looked like, Morgana immediately knew that Dumbledore must be the king of this place, no matter what he chose to call himself. Only kings lived like this. There were books everywhere on tall, stately bookshelves, a huge desk, polished to a shine, and on one wall there was a beautiful sword with rubies on its hilt inside a glass case. The chair behind the desk even looked a bit like a throne. Behind the desk, towards the back of the office stood a tall, old wizard with long silvery hair wearing half moon spectacles and long periwinkle blue robes. His posture was not bent despite his obviously great age and he looked every bit the powerful king. Next to him was a person from a completely different mold. She was short, wide, and very, very pink, with a rather unpleasant pinched expression on her face, which was currently bright red with rage.

"Pardon the interruption, Your Majesty," Morgana said with a formal curtsy. "May I please beg a moment of your time?" Though Uther had many flaws, not the least of which being his parenting abilities (or lack thereof), he was excellent at teaching how one must treat a king.

"Ah, of course, my dear," Dumbledore said, sounding surprised and a touch amused. "But in the future, Headmaster or Professor Dumbledore will do nicely enough as a form of address. Professor Umbridge, I'm afraid we will have to finish this discussion some other time."

Meanwhile, the short pink woman called Professor Umbridge was quickly purpling with rage. "I am not finished speaking with you, Dumbledore! Might I remind you that you are not the king of Hogwarts? Far from it. You are only here because the minister allows you to be."

"Believe that if you wish, Dolores," Dumbledore said, calm as ever. "But I, on the other hand, am rather finished speaking with you. I ask that you leave, and please keep in mind that it is still _my_ office into which you are intruding."

Professor Umbridge's lips were now pressed tightly together and her face was an even deeper shade of purple, but after a moment's tense silence she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

"Now, you wished to speak with me?" Dumbledore prompted Morgana when she continued to stare after Umbridge with her mouth open.

She snapped it shut with a soft pop and looked again at Dumbledore, straightening her spine automatically. "My name is Morgana, from the noble house of Pendragon, and I have come here because, well, because I need your help," she said nervously.

"Morgana...Pendragon, you say?" said Dumbledore, looking thoughtful. "Yes, yes indeed. I suppose I should have expected that you would enter into the picture sooner or later, but I'll admit I had rather thought it would be later."

"What are you talking about?" Morgana asked fearfully.

"Never mind, my dear girl. Just an old man's mutterings. I shall be happy to help you in any way that I can. What is troubling you?"

"I wish to learn more about, about magic. I have been taught all my life that it is evil and dangerous, and now that I have it myself, I don't know what to think. I need to know that it won't turn me into someone I'm not," she said in a soft voice. "Can you help me?"

"You have come to the right place, Morgana. This school has always been a haven for those who have nowhere else to turn. Yes, I believe you will find the answers you seek here at Hogwarts. If it is your wish, I will allow you to enroll at Hogwarts and you will learn that magic is not something that you need to fear." Morgana bit her lip and looked away. Was this what she really needed? To become more entrenched in the world of magic than she already was? What if she became nothing more than another person for Uther to hunt down and slaughter? Seeing her indecision, Dumbledore leaned in closer over his desk and smiled at her kindly when she met his eyes. "Uther cannot harm you here, Morgana. He has been dead for over a thousand years."

Morgana jumped back and looked at Dumbledore in suspicion and awe. His blue eyes were penetrating, but he continued to smile calmly. She had not realized that Uther, and everyone else she had ever known, was dead by now. It brought her an odd mixture of sadness and relief. And how did Dumbledore know what it was she feared? Unless - was it possible he was reading her mind? Thoroughly spooked, Morgana chose not to voice her suspicions in case they turned out to be true. "Y-you know of Uther?"

"Oh, yes. I think you will find that nearly everyone here knows his name. And yours. You see, in the years since Camelot fell, your names have lived on in legend. Should you choose to become a student here, you might find that your name brings you more attention than you may wish for. I would suggest that you keep your true identity secret, at least for the time being."

"But how?" said Morgana.

"Oh, I think it will be easier than you imagine. With so many students filling these halls, you shouldn't have too much difficulty blending into the crowd. You might choose to go by Morgan, or Mary-"

"Morgan," Morgana interrupted. "I think I could get used to that."

"Excellent!" said Dumbledore, beaming at her. "May I take that to mean that you have accepted my offer and wish to become a student here?"

"Yes," Morgana said determinedly. "I have come too far not to try."

"Then I wish you the best of luck, Morgana. If you would please step this way, we will get you sorted into one of Hogwarts' four houses. I believe it will be best if you enter as a first year, because, forgive me, but I believe you may have trouble learning the more difficult spells being taught to the older students given your lack of previous magical education."

At first, Morgana bristled at the jab at her pride, and was just about to retort that she was perfectly capable of learning whatever this school could throw at her, thank you very much, but stopped when she met Dumbledore's eyes again. He was still smiling serenely, his face wise and marked by experience. She could not help but see the wisdom of his words.

"Alright," she sighed, and she followed the old wizard to a bookshelf near the back of his office. He gestured to a wooden stool and she sat down warily, folding her hands in her lap. Dumbledore took a very old looking hat down from a shelf and rubbed a bit of dust off of it. Morgana jumped nearly off her chair when a gap near the rim of the hat opened and seemed to give a wide yawn.

"Don't be afraid, my dear," Dumbledore said tranquilly. He lifted the hat above her and brought it down onto her head. It was slightly too large and fell over her ears. She looked up at Dumbledore quizzically when nothing seemed to be happening. Then, a deep voice boomed in her ears, and she clapped her hands over them.

" _My my,"_ the voice said. " _I see that someone has been manipulating the space-time continuum again. Will they ever learn?"_

" _What do you mean?"_ Morgana asked it fearfully inside her head.

" _I mean that you, as possibly the most infamous witch in all of magical history, really do not belong at Hogwarts in the 20th century. But I forget myself. I am only a hat, after all. If you wish to destroy the world as we know it, I cannot stop you. I exist only to sort students into houses, and that is what I must do for you."_

" _I'm not going to destroy anything!"_ Morgana shouted at it angrily.

" _That is what they all say,"_ the hat replied with a heavy sigh.

" _What who says?"_

" _Never mind, Morgana. I only hope that I, and indeed, the whole world, is wrong about you. I know exactly where to put you. May you find friends there, and not enemies. I daresay you have enough of those to be getting on with."_

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat boomed out loud.

"Very good," said Dumbledore, although he did not sound particularly pleased and there was a small crease between his eyebrows. "I thought as much." Morgana got shakily to her feet. "I will call the head of Slytherin house and have him escort you to your new dormitory."

"Thank you," Morgana said, her mind still spinning from what the hat had said it thought she would do.

Dumbledore nodded soberly. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Morgana Pendragon."

* * *

Harry sprinted as fast as his legs would allow him down many flights of stairs, hurtling towards the dungeons. Not only did he not want to be any later for Potions than he had to be, he was also burning with the desire to tell Ron and Hermione who it was he had just brought to see Dumbledore.

It had been four long years since he had last seen Merlin. Back in first year, when the memory of Merlin's lessons was still fresh in his mind, he had tried to tell some of his fellow classmates, including Neville and Seamus, that he had met Merlin. This proved to be a mistake, however, because no one would believe him and somehow the story that Harry Potter had gone loony managed to spread throughout the school before their first year at Hogwarts was over. It would have been so much easier if he could have just shown them some of the magic Merlin had taught him, but he still wasn't able to do any of it outside of Merlin's presence. The taunts he had received from Malfoy had been unbearable when he had heard the rumors. In the years following that incident, his mind became too preoccupied with school and fighting against Lord Voldemort's rise to power to think very much about Merlin, and he had slowly begun to think of Merlin and Camelot as something like a childish dream he had once had. But he had never forgotten.

Recently, as Voldemort grew more powerful and the wizarding world stubbornly shut their eyes to the truth about his return, Harry had begun to think about Merlin more and more frequently. Harry had even once thought to hold DA meetings inside the room where time was frozen, and he might have done it if not for the problem of getting back through the door afterwards.

He especially thought about the promise he had made to himself so many years ago, after Merlin had been forced to stop teaching him. As his mind returned to his promise to not live with prejudice again and again, an impossible idea and the beginnings of a plan had begun to form in Harry's mind and refused to leave it. Ron and Hermione had both told him that it was a mad, dangerous idea and that he should forget about it, but now that Morgana was here, Harry could not help but consider it once again. After all, if it worked, it could change everything.

When Harry arrived at the door to the Potions classroom, he opened it as softly as he could and tried to sneak around the students busy brewing what looked like a very complicated potion involving taproot and sheep eyeballs without alerting Snape to his presence. Unfortunately, Snape resembled a bat in more than just appearance. Harry was certain that he could use sonar as well. Snape descended upon him in an instant, black robe billowing out behind him and knocking a glass jar from someone's desk, where it shattered.

" _Potter_!" Snape hissed. Half of the class stopped what they were doing to watch Snape do what he did best. "Are you under the impression that I allow my students to wander into class whenever they please?"

"No, Professor," Harry said through gritted teeth, "but I thought Ron and Hermione told you that-"

"I don't accept excuses for students to skive off my class. Especially when said student doesn't even discuss the matter with me himself."

"But Professor, I was just-"

"No excuses, Potter! You will receive no marks for today's lesson and I want a 14 inch essay on my desk tomorrow about the correct preparation of the Draught of Illusion." Snape gestured to the long list of instructions written in cramped handwriting on the board.

Harry, shaking with anger, only nodded.

Snape turned away and then, a smirk on his face, turned back and said, "And 20 points from Gryffindor for your tardiness." The Gryffindor side of the class let out a collective groan and several Slytherins snickered.

"Clean up this mess, silly girl," Snape snarled at the shy Gryffindor girl whose jar he had smashed as he made his way back to his desk at the front of the room. Harry sat down in the empty chair at Ron and Hermione's table with a groan and made to take a roll of parchment out of his bag to begin Snape's essay.

"Was that woman from the hallway all right, Harry?" Ron asked him in a whisper.

"Oh! Yeah," Harry said. For a moment he had completely forgotten that he wanted to tell Ron and Hermione about Morgana, his mind was so full of anger at Snape. He relayed Morgana's identity and what she had told him in a whisper so that the people at the surrounding tables couldn't hear him.

"Bloody hell, Harry! First you meet Merlin, and then you meet his arch-enemy!"

"But the thing is, she said they weren't enemies. And she didn't seem evil at all," said Harry. He hesitated, and then added, "I think she could really help to make that plan I told you about go more smoothly."

"Oh no, Harry," Hermione said, dawning comprehension and worry on her face. "You're not still thinking about that, are you? I'm telling you, it's a really bad idea! And the Morgana Pendragon out of the history textbooks would never agree to it."

"You don't know that!" Harry said impatiently.

"You don't know anything about Morgana, though, Harry! Why would you trust her with this?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"She seemed like a good person, is all. I could tell she was sincere. Think of how much more impressive it would be if she were behind me on this."

"Maybe, but just think about it, mate," said Ron. "Morgana is supposed to be one of the most evil witches who ever lived. Haven't you seen the chocolate frog card? And besides, what you're planning is illegal!"

"Like we've never broken the rules before," Harry shot back.

"But this is different!" Hermione said, looking stricken. "You're trying to change the very nature of wizarding society."

"For the better," Harry said vehemently.

"It's not up to you to decide that," she said. "Look, we'll talk about this later. Snape's watching us rather closely."

Harry looked up and saw that she was right, Snape was staring at them, a look of deepest suspicion and loathing on his face. Harry sighed and went to work on his essay, although he really didn't know where to start, having missed the first part of the lesson. He would have to borrow Hermione's notes later.

Ron and Hermione just didn't understand. Why couldn't they see how much better off the world would be if they followed his plan? The chance for this kind of global change only came about once in a lifetime, and now that Merlin's world was open to them, that chance had come. His friends didn't seem to understand how how much damage the separation of entire groups of people had done throughout history, all the way back to Merlin's time. If Voldemort was going to be vanquished once and for all, they would have to stand against him as a people united. Because this wasn't just the wizards' fight, and it wasn't just the wizards he was threatening. It was everyone.

* * *

 _A/N: Hello everybody! I'm sorry this chapter is so late. I got insanely busy with end of the year projects for school and didn't have much time to write. I hope this chapter was worth the wait, though!_

 _After careful consideration, I have decided that this story is going to be friendship only. Sorry to anyone who was hoping for Mergana. I have also changed the summary because I wasn't happy with the old one, in case anyone was confused. Just thought you ought to know. (*faints*)_

 _By the way, Fanfiction was not letting me reply to reviews for a while there, so I'll just say thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter here. Thank you all! And thank you to the people who followed/favorited the story as well. You guys inspire me to write!_


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